Iversity  ./  California^ 
IRV1NF 


RICH  AND  HUMBLE 


OR 


THE  MISSION  OF  BERTHA  GRANT 


Storg  for  HJourifl  people 


BY 

OLIVER  OPTIC 

AUTHOR    OF    "THE    BOAT    CLUB,"    "ALL    ABOARD,"    "NOW  OR 

NEVER,"   "TRY  AGAIN,"   "POOR  AND  PROUD,"   "LITTLE 

BY  LITTLE."   "  THE  RIVERDALE  STORY  BOOKS,  "  ETC. 


frVtJ  feu* 


NEW  YORK 
HURST    &    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


PS 


OLIVER  OPTIC  SERIES 

UNIFORM   WITH    THIS   VOLUME 
By  OLIVER  OPTIC 

ALL  ABOARD  ;  or,  Life  on  the  Lake. 

BOAT  CLUB;  or.  The  Bunkers  of  Hippleton. 

BRAVE  OLD  SALT;  or,  Life  on  tbt  Quarter  Deck. 

Do  SOMETHINGS;  a  Stery  for  Little  Folks. 

FIGHTING  JOE  ;  or,  The  Fortunes  of  a  Staff  Officer. 

HASTE  AND  WASTE;  or,  Young  Pilot  of  Lake  Cham  plain. 

HOPE  AND  HAVE;  or,  Fanny  Grant  Among  the  Indians. 

IN  acHOOL  AND  OUT;  or.  The  Conquest  of  Richard  Grant. 

LITTLE  BY  LITTLE  ;  or,  The  Cruise  of  the  Flyaway. 

LITTLE  MERCHANT  ;  a  Btory  for  Little  Folks 

Now  OR  NEVER;  or,  The  Adventures  of  Bobby  Bright 

OUTWARD  HOUND;  or,  Young  America  Afloat 

POOR  AND  PROUD  ;  or,  The  Fortunes  of  Katie  Redburn. 

PROUD  AND  LAZY;  a  Story  for  little  Folks. 

RICH  AND  HUMBLE;  or,  The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant. 

BAILOR  BOY  ;  or,  Jack  Somers  in  the  Navy. 

SOLDIER  BOY;  or,  Tom  Somers  in  the  Army. 

TRY  AGAIN;  or,  The  Trials  and  Triumphs  of  Harry  West. 

WATCH  AND  WAIT  ;  or,  The  Young  Fugitives. 

WORK  AND  WIN  ;  or.  Noddy  Newman  on  a  Cruise. 

THE  YANKEE  MIDDY;  or,  The  Adventures  of  a  Naval 

Officer. 
YOUNG  LIEUTENANT;  or,  The  Adventures  of  an  Army 

Officer. 

Price,  postpaid,  $oc.  each,  or  any  three  books 
for  $1.25 

HURST  &  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK 


TO 

Emma  Xoufse  B&ams 

THIS  BOOK 
IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED 

BY  HER  FATHER. 


PREFACE. 


AGREEABLY  to  the  promise  made  in  the  preface 
of  "  Little  by  Little,"  the  author  presents  the  fol- 
lowing story  to  his  young  lady  friends,  though  ho 
confidently  expects  it  will  prove  as  acceptable  to 
the  embryo  "  lords  of  creation  "  as  to  those  for 
whom  it  was  more  especially  written. 

The  girls  will  find  that  Bertha  Grant  is  not 
only  a  very  good  girl,  but  that  her  life  is  animated 
by  a  lofty  purpose,  which  all  may  have,  though 
they  fail  to  achieve  the  visible  triumphs  that  re- 
warded the  exertions  of  the  heroine  of  "  Kich  and 
Humble." 

The  boys  will  find  that  Eichard  Grant  was  not 
always  a  good  boy,  because  his  life  was  not  ani- 
mated by  a  lofty  purpose;  but  the  author  hopes, 
in  another  volume,  to  present  him  in  a  higher 
moral  aspect,  and  more  worthy  the  imitation  of 
tho»e  who,  like  him,  have  wandered  from  the  true 
path. 

"  Rich  and  Humble  "  is  the  first  of  the  Wood- 
ville  Stories,  and  several  of  the  characters  intro- 
duced in  this  book  will  appear  again;  but  each 

5 


-6  Preface. 

story  will  be  complete  in  itself,  and  independent 
of  the  others. 

With  a  renewed  expression  of  thanks  to  my 
young  friends  for  the  cordial  welcome  they  ex- 
tended to  the  several  volumes  of  the  "  Library 
for  Young  People,"  I  offer  them  "  Rich  and  Hum- 
ble," with  the  hope  that  it  will  not  only  amuse 
their  leisure  hours,  but  will  inspire  in  them  that 
high  aim  which  is  the  fountain  of  a  pure  and  true 
life. 

WILLIAM  T.  ADAMS. 

DORCHESTER,  Sept.  8, 1863. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PA«K 

I.  In  which  Bertha  Grant  Becomes  a  Missionary 

to  the  Heathen , . . . , 9 

n.  In  which  Bertha  finds  herself  short  of  Funds. .     23 

III.  In  which  Bertha  makes  a  Visit  to  the  Glen. ...     35 

IV.  In  which  Bertha  does  Something  towards  Civ- 

ilizing Noddy  Newman 48 

V.  In  which  Bertha  hears  Good  News  and  Bad 

News 61 

VI.  In  which  Bertha  reasons  with  her  Brother,  and 

the  Greyhound  floats  again 75 

VII.  In  which  Bertha  reads  the  Newspaper,   and 

faints  away 88 

VIII.  In  which  Bertha  meets  the  new  Owner  of 

Woodville 101 

IX.  In  which  Bertha  leaves  Woodville,  and  Richard 

is  as  proud  as  ever 115 

X.  In  which  Bertha  visits  the  Widow  Lamb,  and 

makes  Arrangements  for  the  Future 129 

XI.  In  which  Bertha  starts  for  New  York,  and 
makes  the  Acquaintance  of  Master  Charley 

Byron 142 

XTL  In  which  Bertha  becomes  a  Governess  and 

resides  at  Blue  Hill 155 

7 


8  Contents. 

CHAPTER  PAQK 

XIII.  In  which  Bertha  loses   her  Situation,  after 

Master  Charley  has  made  a  Sensation 169 

XIV.  In  which  Bertha  visits  her  Father's  Office,  and 

answers  an  Advertisement  in  the  Herald. . . .  185 
XV.  In  which  Bertha  finds  a  new  Home,  and  is 

mystified  by  Strange  Things 19^ 

XVI.  In  which  Bertha  listens  to  the  Story  of  a  Family 

Quarrel 211 

XVII.  In  which  Bertha  hears  Good  News,  and  is 

sorely  persecuted 221 

XVIII.  In  which  Bertha  proves  her  Innocence,  and 

meets  Richard  in  the  Station  House 232 

XIX.  In  which  Bertha  finds  Uncle  Obed,  and  returns 

to  Woodville 241 

XX.  In  which  Bertha  visits  the  Glen  again,  and  the 

Story  ends 250 


RICH  AND  HUMBLE ; 

OR, 

THE  MISSION  OF  BERTHA  GRANT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

IN    WHICH    BERTHA    GRANT    BECOMES    A    MISSIONARY 
TO  THE   HEATHEN. 

"PLEASE  to  give  me  ten  dollars,  father?"  said 
Bertha  Grant. 

"  Ten  dollars ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Grant,  with  a 
smile  which  looked  very  encouraging  to  the  appli- 
cant. "  What  in  the  world  do  you  want  ten  dol- 
lars for?" 

"  O,  I  want  to  use  it,  father." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  you  do.  I  have  not  the  slight- 
est doubt  on  that  point." 

"  You  are  in  a  hurry  now,  father,  and  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it  another  time,"  replied  Bertha, 
casting  an  anxious  glance  at  her  brother,  who  ap- 
peared to  be  an  interested  listener. 

9 


io  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  Well,  child,  there  is  ten  dollars,"  added  Mr. 
Grant,  as  he  handed  her  two  half  eagles. 

"  Now,  dad,  do  only  half  as  much  as  that  for 
me,  and  I  will  be  satisfied,"  said  Richard  Grant, 
the  only  brother  of  Bertha. 

"  Not  a  dollar,  Richard.  Where  did  you  study 
politeness,  my  son?  Dad!  Do  you  think  that 
is  a  proper  term  to  apply  to  your  father  ?  " 

"  I  meant  papa,"  whined  the  boy,  in  affected 
tones  of  humility. 

"  If  you  ever  call  me  '  dad '  again,  I  will  send 
you  off  to  a  boarding  school  to  mend  your  man- 
ners. You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself." 

"  I  am,  papa,  and  I  promise  you  I  never  will 
call  you  so  again ;  though  that  is  what  all  the  fel- 
lows call  their  governors." 

"  Enough  of  this.  I  do  not  wish  to  hear  any 
slang  talk  in  my  house.  Don't  call  me  '  dad '  or 
t  governor/  either,  before  my  face  or  behind  my 
back." 

"  I  will  not,  papa." 

"  Nor  papa,  either.  You  need  not  be  a  little 
rowdy,  nor  a  great  calf." 

"  I  will  not,  father.  Now  give  me  five  dol- 
lars," whined  the  youth,  as  he  extended  his  hand 
to  receive  the  gift. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        n 

"  Not  a  dollar,  Richard ! "  replied  Mr.  Grant, 
sternly.  "  Money  does  you  no  good." 

"  I  don't  think  that  is  fair,  father,"  protested 
Kichard.  "  When  Bertha  asks  you  for  ten  dollars, 
you  give  it  to  her.  When  I  ask  you  for  only  five, 
you  will  not  give  it  to  me.  If  she  had  asked  for 
twenty  or  fifty,  you  would  have  let  her  have  it." 

"  Very  likely  I  should,"  replied  the  father,  so 
coolly  that  it  was  clear  the  argument  of  his  son 
had  not  moved  him. 

"  I  think  it  is  partial." 

"  You  can  think  what  you  please,  Richard." 

"  Why  won't  you  give  me  money  when  I  ask  for 
it,  as  well  as  Bertha?  I  am  older  than  she  is,  and 
I  don't  see  why  I  should  be  treated  like  a  baby." 

"  Because  you  act  like  one.  When  you  behave 
like  a  man,  you  shall  be  treated  like  one." 

"What  have  I  done,  father?" 

"  You  have  not  done  anything  that  is  noble, 
generous,  or  manly.  You  want  five  dollars  to 
enable  you  to  visit  some  bowling  alley,  billiard 
saloon,  or  horse  race." 

"  I  don't  want  it  for  any  such  use." 

"  What  do  you  want  it  for?  " 

"  You  did  not  ask  Bertha  what  she  wanted  her 
money  for,  at  least  you  did  not  make  her  tell  you." 


12  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  know  very  well  she  will  apply  it  to  a  good 
use." 

"  Humph !  "  growled  Richard.  "  She  has  gath- 
ered a  crowd  of  beggars  and  paupers  in  the  Glen, 
and  she  will  waste  the  whole  ten  dollars  upon 
them.  I  don't  think  it  is  very  proper  for  her  to 
associate  with  those  dirty  savages  from  the  Hol- 
low." 

"  It  is  more  proper  than  to  associate  with  the 
better  dressed  savages  from  the  other  side  of  the 
river." 

"  Won't  you  let  me  have  the  five  dollars, 
father?"  pleaded  Richard,  who  had  a  point  to 
gain,  and  therefore  was  not  disposed  to  carry  his 
argument  any  farther. 

"  I  will  not,  Richard.  I  gave  you  five  dollars 
the  other  day,  and  the  next  morning  I  heard  that 
you  had  been  seen  with  most  disgraceful  com- 
panions in  a  bowling  saloon.  Richard,  if  you 
have  any  respect  for  yourself,  or  regard  for  me 
and  your  sisters,  do  not  associate  with  low  and 
vile  company." 

As  Mr  Grant  uttered  this  earnest  warning,  he 
put  on  his  hat  and  left  the  room.  When  he  had 
gone,  and  the  wayward  son  realized  that  his 
father  fully  understood  his  position,  he  threw 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        13 

himself  upon  the  sofa  with  an  exclamation  of  an- 
ger and  resentment.  It  was  evident  that  the 
warning  he  had  received  produced  no  effect  upon 
him,  and  that  he  was  only  smarting  under  the 
pain  of  disappointment. 

His  father  had  so  often  given  him  money  when 
he  asked  for  it,  that  he  did  not  expect  to  be  re- 
fused in  the  present  instance,  especially  when  he 
saw  his  sister  so  liberally  supplied.  He  remained 
for  a  few  moments  upon  the  sofa,  venting  his 
anger  and  disappointment  by  kicking  and  crying, 
as  a  very  small  child  does  when  deprived  of  some 
coveted  plaything. 

"  That's  too  confounded  bad !  "  exclaimed  he,  at 
last,  rising  from  the  sofa  and  walking  towards 
Bertha,  who  had  been  a  sad  and  silent  spectator 
of  the  scene  which  had  just  transpired.  "  All  my 
fun  for  the  day  is  spoiled.  Berty,  won't  you  help 
me  out  of  this  scrape?" 

"What  scrape,  Dick?" 

"  I  want  five  dollars  very  badly.  I  must  have  it 
too.  I  can't  get  along  without  it.  I  shall  be  a 
by-word  among  all  the  fellows  if  I  don't  have  it," 
added  Richard,  with  a  great  deal  of  earnestness. 
"  Lend  me  five  dollars  of  the  money  father  gave 
you,  and  I  will  pay  you  in  a  few  days,  when  the 
governor  is  better  natured." 


14  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  The  governor  ?  "  suggested  Bertha,  with  a  re- 
proving smile. 

"  Father,  I  mean,  of  course.  What  is  the  use  of 
being  so  nice  about  little  things.  I  never  saw  the 
old  man  in  such  a  ferment  before  in  my  life.'' 

"The  old  man?" 

"  There  it  is  again !  " 

"  I  don't  like  to  hear  such  names  applied  to 
father.  It  really  hurts  my  feelings,  and  I  hope 
you  will  not  do  so." 

"  Pooh !  All  the  fellows  call  their  fathers  by 
these  names.  It  sounds  babyish  to  say  '  my 
father; '  and  I  don't  like  to  be  different  from  the 
rest  of  the  fellows." 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  be  like  the  young  men  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river  with  whom  you  as- 
sociate." 

"  Nonsense !  They  are  real  good  fellows.  They 
don't  go  to  the  prayer  meetings,  it  is  true,  but  for 
all  that,  they  are  better  than  hundreds  that  do 
go." 

"  I  think  they  are  bad  boys,  and  I  hope  you 
won't  go  with  them  any  more." 

"  Then  it  was  you  that  told  father  I  went  with 
them,"  said  Richard,  suddenly  stopping  in  his 
walk  across  the  room,  and  looking  his  sister  full  in 
the  face. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        15 

"  I  did  tell  him,  Richard;  but  you  know  I  did  so 
for  your  good." 

"  Pooh !  For  my  good !  Do  you  think  I  cannot 
take  care  of  myself?" 

"  I  hope  you  can." 

"  I  didn't  think  you  were  a  little  tell-tale,. 
Berty,"  sneered  Richard. 

"  I  have  spoken  to  you  about  going  with  those 
bad  boys,  and  begged  you  to  keep  away  from  them. 
If  you  knew  how  bad  I  feel  when  I  see  my  brother 
in  such  company,  you  would  not  complain  of  me 
for  telling  father." 

"  I  won't  complain,  Berty,"  replied  Eichard, 
suddenly  changing  his  tone.  "  You  are  a  real 
good  girl  and  you  intended  to  do  me  a  heap  of 
good  when  you  told  father.  You  are  the  best  sis- 
ter in  the  world.  Now  lend  me  the  five  dollars^ 
Berty,  and  I  never  will  find  fault  with  you  for 
any  thing  you  may  do." 

"  I  cannot,  Richard." 

"You  cannot?  Yes,  you  can.  Haven't  you 
got  two  half  eagles  in  your  hand?" 

"  I  have,  but  I  got  them  for  a  particular  use." 

"  But  I  will  pay  you  again." 

"  I  suppose  you  will,  if  you  can." 

"  If    I    can !      Do    you    think    dad — father,    I 


16  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

mean — will  always  be  as  savage  as  he  was  this 
morning?" 

"  I  am  afraid  you  don't  understand  him,  Rich- 
ard. He  thinks  that  giving  you  money  does  you 
injury." 

"  Don't  preach  any  more,  Berty.  Will  you 
lend  me  the  five  dollars?'' 

"  I  cannot.  It  would  not  be  right  for  me  to 
do  so,  even  if  I  could  spare  the  money." 

"Why   not?" 

"  Father  refused  to  give  it  to  you,  because 
he  thought  it  would  be  an  injury  to  you,  and  it 
would  certainly  be  wrong  for  me  to  thwart  his 
purpose." 

"  Then  you  won't  leave  me  have  it?  "  demanded 
Richard,  with  a  struggle  to  keep  down  his  resent- 
ment. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?" 

"  What  odds  does  it  make  what  I  want  it  for?  " 

"  If  you  want  it  for  any  good  purpose,  I  might 
let  you  have  it,"  answered  Bertha,  who  was  wav- 
ering between  a  desire  to  oblige  her  brother  and 
the  fear  of  doing  wrong. 

"  I  want  it  to  put  in  the  contribution  box  for 
the  Hottentots  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,  of 
course,"  replied  Richard,  with  a  sneer. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.         17 

*  Tell  me  what  you  want  it  for,  Dick." 

"  Well,  I  scorn  to  lie  about  it.  I  offered  to 
bet  five  dollars  with  Tom  Mullen  that  our  sail 
boat  would  beat  hie,  and  he  has  taken  me  up. 
The  race  is  to  come  off  to-day,  and  if  I  don't 
get  the  money  I  shall  have  to  back  down." 

"  I  hope  you  will,  Dick,"  said  Bertha,  sorrow- 
fully. "  What  would  father  say  if  he  knew  you 
were  betting  on  boats  ?  " 

"  If  he  had  any  spunk  at  all  he  would  hand 
out  the  money,  and  tell  me  to  go  it" 

"  You  know  very  well  he  would  disapprove  of 
it.  I  think  it  is  very  wicked  to  gamble  and  bet." 

"  No  preaching.  Are  you  willing  to  have  me 
tabooed  as  a  sneak;  to  have  me  a  by-word  and 
the  laughing-stock  of  the  fellows?" 

"  I  would  rather  have  such  fellows  hate  you 
than  like  you,"  answered  Bertha,  sadly.  "  I  did 
not  think  you  had  gone  so  far  as  to  gamble." 

"Pshaw!  There  is  no  gambling  about  it.  I 
am  not  going  to  be  branded  as  a  sneak.  If  you 
won't  lend  me  the  money,  I  must  get  it  some- 
where elee." 

"  I  cannot  lend  it  to  you,  Richard,  for  such, 
a  purpose.  You  will  be  a  disgrace  to  your  fam- 
ily if  you  go  on  in  this  way." 


i8  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  you  are  do- 
ing! Don't  you  spend  half  your  time  with  those 
dirty  savages  from  the  Hollow?  Do  you  think 
it  is  right  for  the  daughter  of  Franklin  Grant 
to  associate  with  those  dirty,  filthy,  half-civilized 
ragamuffins?" 

"  It  will  not  injure  either  them  or  me." 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  you.  If  it  does  not  hurt 
your  feelings  it  does  mine,  to  hear  that  you 
spend  your  time  with  these  dregs  of  society.  The 
fellows  on  the  other  side  are  all  laughing  at  you." 

"  Let  them  laugh.  While  I  do  my  duty,  I  need 
not  fear  them." 

"  Come,  Berty,  we  won't  quarrel.  Let  me  have 
one  of  those  half  eagles,  and  I  will  let  you  go 
with  the  savages  as  much  as  you  please." 

"  No,  Richard,"  replied  Bertha,  shaking  her 
head,  with  a  smile  which  showed  that  there  was 
no  anger  or  resentment  in  her  heart." 

"  Do,  Berty !  " 

"  I  cannot ;  my  conscience  will  not  let  me  do 
so." 

"Confound  your  conscience!  "jexclaimed  Rich- 
ard, rushing  out  of  the  room,  in  a  paroxysm  of 
anger. 

Bertha  was  sorely  tried  by  the  conduct  of  her 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.         19 

brother.  She  had  observed,  with  anxiety  and 
pain,  the  dissolute  course  of  Kichard.  She  had 
reasoned  and  pleaded  with  him  to  abandon  his 
wayward  companions,  but  no  good  result  had 
attended  her  efforts  to  reform  him. 

Mr.  Grant  was  a  broker  in  the  city  of  New 
York.  He  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  very 
wealthy  man.  He  lived  upon  a  magnificent  estate 
on  the  Hudson,  about  twenty-five  miles  from  the 
city.  His  wife  had  been  dead  several  years,  and 
his  three  children  were  under  the  guidance  of  a 
housekeeper,  who,  though  an  excellent  woman,  did 
not  possess  a  mother's  influence,  nor  exercise  a 
mother's  authority  over  hor  young  charge. 

Woodville,  the  residence  of  the  broker,  was  a 
beautiful  place.  The  mansion  and  its  appoint- 
ments were  all  that  wealth  and  taste  could  make 
them.  Servants,  without  number,  came  and  went 
at  the  bidding  of  the  children.  Tutors  and  gov- 
ernesses had  been  employed  to  superintend  the 
education  of  the  young  people.  Boats  on  the 
river,  carriages  on  the  land,  were  ever  ready  to 
minister  to  their  inclinations.  There  was  no 
end  to  the  dogs,  ponies,  rabbits,  monkeys,  squir- 
rels, deer,  and  other  pets,  which  were  supplied 
to  beguile  their  leisure  hours. 


2O  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

Mr.  Grant  believed  himself  to  be  a  rich  man, 
and  none  of  his  friends  or  neighbors  had  any  rea- 
son to  suspect  he  was  not  a  rich  man.  He  lived 
like  a  nabob;  but  more  than  this,  he  was  a  gen- 
erous and  kind-hearted  man,  and  those  who  knew 
him  best  respected  him  most,  while  his  wealth 
purchased  for  him  the  worldly  esteem  of  all  with- 
in the  circle  of  his  influence. 

As  my  young  readers  have  already  discovered, 
he  was  an  indulgent  parent.  Since  the  death  of 
Mrs.  Grant,  his  children  had  been  his  sole  do- 
mestic happiness.  He  was  wholly  devoted  to 
them;  but  his  immense  business  transactions 
obliged  him  to  be  absent  from  an  early  hour  in 
the  morning  till  a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  and 
they  were  thus  left,  for  the  greater  portion  of  the 
time,  to  the  care  of  the  housekeeper  and  their 
instructors. 

Our  story  opens  in  the  month  of  July,  and 
it  was  vacation  with  the  young  people.  The  tutor 
and  the  governess  had  two  months'  leave  of  ab- 
sence. Eichard,  Bertha,  and  Fanny  were  free 
from  the  restraints  of  study.  They  had  nothing 
to  do  but  enjoy  themselves.  How  Richard,  who 
wras  fifteen  years  old,  spent  his  time,  has  already 
been  shown. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        21 

Bertha,  while  wandering  alone,  one  May-day, 
in  the  Glen,  a  secluded  valley  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,  half  a  mile  from  Woodville,  had  met  a 
party  of  poor  children  from  Dunk's  Hollow, 
which  is  a  little  village  a  mile  or  more  from  the 
mansion  house.  There  were  seven  of  them,  and 
they  were  children  of  the  poorest  people  in  the 
neighborhood.  They  were  dirty,  ragged,  barefoot, 
and  their  condition  excited  the  pity  of  the  child 
of  plenty. 

She  gave  them  the  cake  and  confectionery  she 
had  brought  to  grace  her  lonely  May-day  fes- 
tival in  the  Glen,  told  them  stories,  and  made 
herself  as  agreeable  as  though  she  had  been  an 
angel  sent  to  mitigate  the  woes  of  poverty  and 
want.  The  event  opened  a  new  vision  to  Bertha, 
and  she  at  once  began  to  devise  means  to  instruct 
these  children  of  want  and  improve  their  worldly 
condition.  Without  going  to  a  far-off  land,  she 
became  a  missionary  to  the  heathen,  the  friend 
and  companion  of  the  needy  and  neglected.  De- 
spising the  taunts  of  her  brother  and  her  sister, 
she  spent  most  of  her  leisure  hours  with  her 
ragged  disciples  in  the  Glen. 


22  Rich  and  Humble,  or 


CHAPTER    II. 

IN      WHICH      BERTHA      FINDS      HERSELF      SHORT     OF 
FUNDS. 

WOODVILLE  was  situated  on  the  right  bank  of 
the  Hudson.  About  one  mile  above  it  was  the 
village  of  Dunk's  Hollow,  as  it  was  called.  It 
was  only  a  small  collection  of  houses,  occupied 
by  boatmen,  fishermen,  and  laborers — American, 
Irish,  and  Dutch,  all  blended  together  in  the  most 
inharmonious  manner. 

Dunk's  Hollow  had  a  very  bad  name  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  man,  woman,  or  child  who 
came  from  there  was  deemed  a  reproach  to  the 
race.  There  was  only  one  shop  at  the  Hollow, 
and  that  was  the  principal  source  of  all  its  mis- 
ery, for  its  chief  trade  was  in  liquor,  pipes,  and 
tobacco.  The  oldest  inhabitant  could  not  remem- 
ber the  week  in  which  there  had  not  been  at  least 
one  fight  there,  and  the  number  was  often  half  a 
dozen.  The  men  did  small  jobs,  and  spent  most 
of  their  earnings  at  the  tap-room  of  Von  Brunt, 


The  Mission    of  Bertha  Grant.       23 

while  the  women  maintained  an  almost  ineffectual 
struggle  to  obtain  food  enough  to  keep  themselves 
and  their  children  alive.  This  was  Dunk's  Hol- 
low, to  whose  poor  and  neglected  little  ones  Ber- 
tha Grant  had  become  a  ministering  angel. 

o  o 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  was  the  thriv- 
ing village  of  Whitestone,  in  surprising  contrast 
with  the  place  just  described.  It  contained  four 
or  five  thousand  inhabitants,  with  all  the  ap- 
pointments of  modern  civilization,  including  a 
race-course,  half  a  dozen  billiard  saloons,  where 
betting  and  liquor  drinking  were  the  principal 
recreations,  and  as  many  bowling  alleys  and  fash- 
ionable oyster  shops.  All  these  traps  to  catch 
young  men  were  frequented  by  the  elite  of  the  vil- 
lage, as  well  as  by  the  sons  of  rich  men,  whose 
estates  adorned  the  hills  and  valleys  of  the  sur- 
rounding country.  Here  Richard  Grant  had 
taken  his  first  lesson  in  dissipation. 

About  half  way  between  Woodville  and  the 
Hollow  was  the  Glen.  It  was  a  beautifully- 
shaded  valley,  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  through 
which  a  crystal  brook  from  the  hills  above  bub- 
bled its  way  over  the  shining  rocks  to  the  great 
river.  It  was  a  fit  abode  for  the  fairy  queens,  and 
Bertha  was  a  constant  visitor  at  the  spot,  even 


24  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

before  she  made  the  acquaintances  of  the  savages 
from  Dunk's  Hollow,  as  Richard  persisted  in  call- 
ing them. 

The  Glen  was  situated  in  a  curve  of  the  river, 
which  swept  in  from  Woodville  to  the  Hollow. 
Off  the  Cove,  as  it  had  been  named,  was  a  small 
island,  containing  not  more  than  a  quarter  of 
an  acre  of  land,  called  Van  Alstine's.  It  was  cov- 
ered with  rocks  and  trees,  and  was  a  frequent 
resort  of  boating  parties,  especially  those  from 
Woodville.  This  island,  as  well  as  the  Glen,  was 
owned  by  Mr.  Grant,  and  he  had  taken  some  pains 
to  clean  up  the  underbrush,  and  furnish  it  with 
seats  and  arbors. 

Merry  voices  were  heard  in  the  Glen,  even 
while  the  tones  of  anger  and  reproach  were  ring- 
ing in  the  lofty  rooms  of  the  mansion  at  Wood- 
ville. The  savages  from  the  Hollow  were  already 
gathered  there,  and  the  repeated  glances  which 
they  cast  down  the  river  indicated  the  earnestness 
with  which  they  expected  the  coming  of  their 
apostle  of  mercy.  But  Bertha  was  not  ready  to 
join  them  yet.  The  attitude  of  her  brother  was 
far  from  promising,  and  with  a  sad  heart  she  real- 
ized that  the  heathen  had  invaded  her  own  house. 

After  Richard  rushed  out  of  the  house,  angry 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        25 

and  disappointed,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and 
she  tried  to  think  of  some  method  by  which  she 
could  save  him  from  the  error  of  his  ways.  She 
knew  that  Tom  Mullen,  and  the  other  young  men 
with  whom  her  brother  had  lately  begun  to  asso- 
ciate were  the  vilest  of  the  vile.  Tom  had  been 
seen  intoxicated  in  the  streets  of  the  village,  and 
it  was  well  known  that  he  and  his  companions 
were  gamblers,  if  not  thieves. 

What  could  she  do  to  save  him.  Alas!  there 
was  nothing  that  a  child  like  her  could  do;  but 
she  resolved  never  to  cease  pleading  with  him  to 
reform.  She  wept  and  she  prayed  for  him.  She 
had  faith  to  believe  that  He  who  lets  not  a  spar- 
row fall  unseen,  could  save  her  brother  from  ruin 
and  death,  and  with  Him  she  pleaded  that  Rich- 
ard might  be  redeemed. 

Bertha's  heart  was  full  of  love  and  gentleness ; 
and  while  she  wept  over  her  brother,  she  rejoiced 
in  the  little  flock  to  whom  she  had  been  the  mes- 
senger of  so  many  blessings.  She  had  taught 
them  to  read,  and  imparted  to  them  that  wisdom 
which  is  higher  and  purer  than  any  which  flows 
from  earthly  fountains.  As  she  thought  of  them, 
she  glanced  at  the  two  gold  pieces  in  her  hand, 
and  a  smile  lighted  up  her  sweet  face,  when  she 


26  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

imagined  the  pleasure  they  would  purchase  for 
the  lambs  of  her  fold. 

Taking  her  hat  and  shawl,  she  left  the  house 
and  walked  down  to  the  boat  house.  It  was  lo- 
cated on  the  bank  of  the  river,  by  the  side  of  a 
small  wharf  extending  out  into  the  deep  water. 

"  Waiting  for  you,  Miss  Bertha,"  said  the  old 
boatman,  who  had  been  told  to  row  her  over  the 
river. 

"  I  am  all  ready,  Ben,"  replied  Bertha,  as  she 
took  her  seat  in  the  boat. 

"What  ails  Mr.  Richard  this  morning?"  con- 
tinued Ben,  as  he  glanced  at  the  sail  boat,  which 
was  moored  in  the  river  a  short  distance  from  the 
shore,  and  in  which  Richard  was  seated,  looking 
very  gloomy  and  dejected.  "  He  is  uncommon 
cross  this  morning." 

"  Something  happened  at  the  house  which  did 
not  please  him." 

"  I  thought  so.  He  wanted  to  borrow  five  dol- 
lars of  me;  but  I  could  not  lend  it  to  him,  for  I 
did  not  happen  to  have  it  about  me.  I  am  sorry 
Mr.  Richard  feels  so  bad." 

"  I  hope  he  will  feel  better,"  replied  Bertha. 

"  He  tried  to  borrow  the  money  of  the  cook, 
and  of  the  hostler,  but  none  of  them  had  so  much 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        27 

about  them.  Wouldn't  his  father  let  him  have  the 
money." 

"  He  would  not.  But  I  am  all  ready,  Ben," 
said  Bertha,  who  was  very  willing  to  change  the 
subject. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Bertha  ?  "  called  Rich- 
ard from  the  boat. 

"Over  to  Whitestone." 

"  Wait  a  moment,  and  I  will  go  with  you,"  re- 
plied Richard,  as  he  pulled  ashore  in  his  skiff. 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  over  at  Whitestone?  " 
he  asked,  as  he  stepped  into  the  boat. 

"  I  am  going  over  to  buy  some  things." 

"  For  the  savages,  I  suppose,"  sneered  Richard. 

"  They  are,"  answered  Bertha,  unmoved  by  the 
sneer.  "  If  you  knew  how  much  pleasure  my 
work  affords  me,  you  would  want  to  join 
me." 

"  I  think  not ;  I  would  not  disgrace  my  family 
by  mixing  with  the  slime  and  filth  of  the  Hollow. 
Your  ragged  disciples  stole  half  the  strawberries 
in  the  garden  last  night." 

"  Not  my  children,  I  know." 

"  I  will  bet  five  dollars  they  were  the  same  ones 
to  whom  you  taught  the  Ten  Commandments,  and 
*  Now  I  lay  me/  "  laughed  Richard. 


28  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  am  sure  it  was  none  of  mine.  We  are 
ready,  Ben.  You  can  push  off.  I  feel  like  row- 
Ing  a  little  this  morning,  and  I  will  take  one  oar, 
if  you  please." 

Bertha  placed  her  reticule  and  shawl  on  the 
Beat  in  the  stern,  and  seated  herself  at  one  of  the 
oars.  Ben  pulled  a  gentle  stroke  to  accommodate 
that  of  Bertha,  and  the  boat  moved  forward  to- 
wards Whitestone.  Richard  kept  bantering  his 
sister  all  the  way  about  the  savages  of  the  Hollow, 
and  seemed  to  have  entirely  recovered  from  his 
disappointment  and  anger.  In  about  half  an  hour 
they  reached  Whitestone.  Bertha  put  on  her 
shawl,  and  taking  her  reticule  in  her  hand,  walked 
up  to  the  principal  street  of  the  village,  while 
Richard  departed  in  another  direction. 

Bertha  stopped  at  a  dry  goods  store,  where  she 
bought  two  pieces  of  cheap  calico,  some  jean,  and 
a  number  of  other  articles,  amounting  to  ten  dol- 
lars and  fifty  cents. 

"  Dear  me !  "  exclaimed  she,  as  she  put  her  hand 
into  her  reticule ;  "  I  have  lost  all  my  money ! " 

"Lost  your  money?"  said  the  salesman. 

"  I  had  two  half  eagles  in  my  reticule,  and  both 
of  them  are  gone,"  added  she,  looking  upon  the 
floor,  and  searching  the  bag  again.  "  I  have  not 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        29 

opened  the  reticule  since  I  started  from  home,  and 
I  am  sure  they  could  not  have  fallen  out." 

"  Didn't  you  put  them  in  your  pocket?  " 

"  No ;  I  am  sure  I  put  them  in  my  bag.  But 
it  cannot  be  helped.  Of  course  I  cannot  take 
these  things  now." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  can.  You  are  Mr.  Grant's  daugh- 
ter, and  I  shall  be  glad  to  give  you  credit  for  any 
amount  you  may  desire." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  Then  I  will  take  the  things, 
and  pay  you  for  them  the  next  time  I  come  to 
Whitestone." 

"  Any  time,  Miss  Grant.  I  will  send  them  down 
to  your  boat." 

But  Ben  had  followed  her  up  from  the  wharf, 
and  carried  the  goods  down  for  her.  On  their 
way  to  the  river,  she  told  him  that  she  had  lost 
ker  money. 

"Did  you  lose  it  in  the  boat?" 

"  I  don't  know  where  I  lost  it.  I  am  sure  I  put 
it  into  my  bag,  which  has  not  been  opened  since 
I  left  the  house." 

"  I  saw  you  put  the  reticule  on  the  seat  in  the 
stern.  Mr.  Richard  sat  there  all  the  way  coming 
over." 

Bertha  blushed  at  these  words,  and  looked  ear- 


3o  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

nestly  at  the  boatman  to  discover  what  he  meant 
by  them ;  but  Ben  looked  perfectly  blank. 

"  Perhaps  I  dropped  them  out  before  I  fastened 
the  reticule,"  added  Bertha. 

"  Perhaps  you  did,  Miss  Bertha ;  but " 

Ben  stopped  after  the  "  but,"  and  looked  upon 
the  ground,  as  though  he  had  made  a  mistake. 
Bertha's  face  was  crimsoned  with  shame,  as  she 
thought  what  that  terrible  "  but "  might  mean. 
Richard  had  sat  upon  the  bag,  containing  the 
money,  during  the  passage  across  the  river.  Ben 
had  taken  pains  to  state  this  fact  in  so  many 
words.  What  could  he  mean  by  it? 

When  they  reached  the  wharf,  they  found  Rich- 
ard in  the  boat,  ready  to  return  with  them. 

"  Come,  Berty ;  I  have  been  waiting  this  half 
hour  for  you,"  said  he ;  "I  am  in  a  hurry." 

"  Going  to  have  the  race  to-day,  Mr.  Richard?  '' 
asked  Ben,  as  he  placed  the  bundle  of  goods  in 
the  bow  of  the  boat. 

"  Yes,  certainly.  I  told  you  yesterday  it  would 
come  off  to-day  at  eleven  o'clock,"  answered  Rich- 
ard. 

"You  told  me  there  was  some  little  difficulty 
about  the  matter  this  morning,"  added  Ben,  with 
a  smile,  which  was  intended  to  remove  any  ap- 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       31 

pearance  of  impudence  which  the  words  might 
otherwise  convey. 

"  I  have  got  over  that  difficulty,  and  am  all 
ready  for  the  race.  We  will  have  a  good  wind 
to-day,  and  I  am  just  as  certain  that  I  shall  win 
the  race,  as  I  am  that  I  sit  here.  Bear  a  hand, 
Ben ;  I  am  in  a  hurry." 

"Then  you  raised  the  money,  Mr.  Richard?" 
said  Ben,  carelessly,  as  he  adjusted  his  oars. 

"  To  be  sure  I  did.  I  told  you  there  were  a 
dozen  persons  who  would  be  glad  to  lend  it  to 
me.  Bob  Bleeker  lent  me  ten  dollars,  though  I 
did  not  ask  him  for  but  five." 

"  There !  "  exclaimed  Ben,  suddenly  rising  up, 
and  slapping  his  hands  upon  his  trousers  pockets; 
"  I  have  forgotten  my  tobacco,  and  I  shall  die  a 
thousand  deaths  without  it.  Will  you  excuse  me 
for  five  minutes,  Miss  Bertha?" 

"  Certainly,  Ben." 

"  Hurry  up,"  added  Richard. 

"  I  will  be  back  in  less  than  five  minutes; 
and  Ben  ran  up  the  wharf  as  if  the  house  of  his 
nearest  friend  had  been  on  fire. 

He  rushed  up  one  street,  and  then  turned  into 
another,  which  brought  him  to  the  Empire  Saloon, 
of  which  Mr.  Bob  Bleeker  was  the  owner  and  pro- 


32  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

prietor.  Taking  a  two-dollar  bill  from  his  wallet, 
he  bolted  into  the  saloon,  and  thrust  it  into  the 
face  of  the  keeper  of  the  establishment. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Ben  ?  You  are  all  out  of 
wind,"  said  Bob,  as  he  glanced  at  the  two-dollar 
bill. 

"  Mr.  Richard  wants  you  to  give  him  a  better 
bill  for  this  one,"  replied  Ben,  puffing  like  a  por- 
poise, from  the  effects  of  his  hard  run. 

"  A  better  bill ?    What  does  he  mean  by  that?  " 

"  You  know  all  about  it.  Didn't  you  just  give 
him  this  bill?" 

"  No,  sir!  I  did  not,"  replied  Bob,  quick  to 
resent  any  trick,  or  any  imputation  of  unfairness. 
"  I  did  not  give  him  that  bill,  or  any  other." 

"Did  you  lend  him  ten  dollars  just  now?" 

"  No,  sir!  I  did  not ! "  answered  Bob,  with 
emphasis. 

"  Then  I  have  made  a  bad  blunder,  and  I  beg 
your  pardon." 

"  All  right,  Ben." 

"  Give  me  half  a  pound  of  that  best  Cavendish, 
and  I  will  call  it  square." 

Ben  having  obtained  his  tobacco,  which  he  had 
really  forgotten,  hastened  back  to  the  boat.  Tak- 
ing his  place  at  the  oars,  he  pulled  his  steady, 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        33 

even  stroke,  which  in  a  short  time  brought  them 
within  hail  of  the  Woodville  wharf,  where  the 
boatman,  without  any  apparent  reason,  suddenly 
suspended  his  labor,  and  the  boat  soon  came  to  a 
dead  halt. 

"  What  are  you  stopping  for,  Ben?  "  demanded 
Richard.  "  You  may  put  me  on  board  of  the 
Greyhound,  if  you  please." 

"  Not  yet,  Mr.  Richard.  When  I  get  into  a 
fog,  I  always  stand  by,  and  wait  till  I  can  see  my 
way  out  of  it." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Ben?" 

"  Hold  on  a  minute,  Mr.  Richard,  and  I  will 
make  the  daylight  shine  through  what  I  have  said 
in  a  very  short  time." 

"  Bear  a  hand,  then,  Ben,  for  you  know  I  am  in 
a  hurry." 

"  So  am  I,  Ben,"  added  Bertha. 

"  Miss  Bertha  lost  ten  dollars  in  this  boat, 
which  goes  right  against  my  conscience." 

"  Perhaps  I  lost  it  in  the  house,"  suggested 
Bertha. 

"  Perhaps  you  did,  but "  And  Ben  made 

a  long  pause  before  he  added,  "  I  don't  believe 
you  did." 

"  Well,  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  me,  Ben  ?  " 


34  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

asked  Richard,  his  face  as  red  as  Bertha's  had 
been. 

"  Not  much,  perhaps ;  but  I  don't  want  Misa 
Bertha  to  think  now,  or  at  any  future  time,  that  / 
took  the  money." 

"  Of  course  I  don't  think  any  such  thing,  Ben," 
added  Bertha,  reproachfully. 

"  But  you  may  think  so  at  some  future  time, 
if  the  matter  isn't  cleared  up  now." 

"  I  certainly  shall  not,  Ben,"  interposed  Bertha. 
"  Please  don't  keep  me  here,  when  all  my  children 
are  waiting  for  me  in  the  Glen." 

"  Only  a  minute,  Miss  Bertha.  I  did  not  take 
your  money;  but " 

"  Another  '  but/  Ben,"  said  Richard.  "If  you 
have  got  anything  to  say,  why  don't  you  say  it?  " 

"  I  will  say  it,"  replied  Ben,  as  he  proceeded, 
in  the  most  mysterious  manner,  to  turn  all  his 
pockets  inside  out,  to  open  his  wallet,  and  shake 
out  his  handkerchief.  "  The  half  eagles  are  not  in 
my  pockets,  you  see." 

"  Ben,  you  are  a  fool !  "  exclaimed  Richard. 

The  boatman  seated  himself  again,  and  gazed  in 
silence  upon  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        35 


CHAPTER    III. 

IN   WHICH   BERTHA   MAKES  A  VISIT  TO  THE  GLEN. 

"  You  don't  understand  me,  Mr.  Richard/'  said 
Ben,  after  he  had  mused  for  a  time. 

"  I'm  sure  I  do  not.  You  act  as  though  you 
had  lost  your  senses,"  replied  Richard. 

"  But  I  have  not  lost  my  conscience,  Mr.  Rich- 
ard. Perhaps  you  would  not  object  to  exhibiting 
the  contents  of  your  pockets." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  insult  me,  Ben  ? ''  exclaimed 
Richard,  reddening  with  indignation. 

"  No,  sir,  certainly  not ;  but  you  will  do  me  a 
great  favor  by  turning  your  pockets  out — just  to 
oblige  an  old  servant  of  the  family." 

"  Enough  of  this,  Ben.    Use  your  oars  again." 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Richard,  but  I  am  in  earnest. 
That  money  was  lost  in  this  boat.  I  am  a  poor 
man,  and  it  must  be  found  before  any  suspicion 
rests  upon  me." 

"  Ben,  do  you  mean  to  say  I  took  the  money 
from  my  sister  ?  " 


36  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"That  is  precisely  what  I  mean,  Mr.  Richard, 
only  I  couldn't  say  it  out  in  so  many  words,  be- 
cause you  are  the  only  son  of  Mr.  Franklin  Grant, 
:he  rich  broker  of  New  York.  I  thank  you  for 
helping  me  out  with  the  idea." 

"  O,  no,  Ben !  You  must  be  mistaken.  Richard 
would  not  do  so  mean  a  thing." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Bertha,  but  your 
brother  did  do  this  mean  thing;  and  if  he  is  mean 
enough  to  steal  ten  dollars,  which  was  to  be  given 
in  charity,  he  is  mean  enough  to  lay  it  to  the  old 
boatman;  and  I  will  not  risk  myself  on  shore  till 
the  matter  is  cleared  up." 

"Ben,  do  you  know  who  and  what  you  are?" 
said  Richard,  sternly. 

"  I  know  all  about  it,  Mr.  Richard.  I  am  your 
father's  servant — your  servant,  if  you  please ;  but 
if  I  lose  my  place,  and  am  sent  to  jail  for  what  I 
do,  I  will  have  this  matter  set  right  before  I  go 
ashore." 

"  It  is  all  right  now,  Ben.  Put  me  on  board  of 
the  Greyhound,  and  I  will  say  nothing  more  about 
it." 

"  I  will  not.  You  stole  the  money  from  your 
sister,  and  you  shall  return  it  to  her  before  you 
get  out  of  this  boat." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        37 

"  Let  him  go,  Ben,"  remonstrated  Bertha,  who 
began  to  be  alarmed  by  the  stern  manner  of  the 
old  boatman. 

"  I  would  do  any  thing  in  the  world  for  you, 
Miss  Bertha,  but  I  must  have  justice  done  in  this 
matter." 

"  Nonsense,  Ben.  I  haven't  got  the  money," 
said  Richard,  who  was  also  a  little  alarmed  at  the 
determined  manner  of  the  boatman. 

"  You  have  got  it,  Mr.  Richard,  and  you  must 
give  it  up." 

"  I  say  I  have  not  got  it.  Doesn't  that  satisfy 
you?" 

"  It  does  not.  If  you  haven't  got  it,  you  wi?* 
not  object  to  turning  out  your  pockets." 

"  T  have  got  ten  dollars,  of  course.  I  told  you 
I  had." 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  that  I  borrowed  it  of  Bob 
Bleeker?" 

"You  didn't  borrow  a  dollar  of  Bob  Bleeker," 
answered  Ben,  placing  himself  by  the  side  of  the 
youth. 

"Dare  you  tell  me  that  I  lie?" 

"  I  dare  tell  you  anything  that  is  true.  Will 
you  show  me  the  contents  of  your  pockets,  or 
not?" 


38  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  will  not,"  replied  Richard,  stoutly. 

The  boatman  made  no  reply,  but  taking  Richard 
by  the  collar,  he  jerked  him  into  the  middle  of  the 
boat,  and,  in  spite  of  his  kicks  and  struggles, 
thrust  his  hand  into  the  boy's  coat  pocket,  and 
took  therefrom  his  porte-monnaie.  He  then  re- 
leased him,  and  opened  the  wallet. 

It  contained  two  half  eagles! 

"  Here  is  the  money  you  lost,  Miss  Bertha." 

"  Why,  Richard  Grant ! "  exclaimed  Bertha, 
"  how  could  you  do  such  a  thing?  " 

"  That  is  not  your  money,  Berty.  I  borrowed 
it  of  Bob  Bleeker,"  stammered  Richard,  whose 
face  was  now  as  pale  as  a  sheet. 

"  Mr.  Richard,  would  you  be  willing  to  go  over 
with  me  and  ask  Bob  Bleeker  if  he  lent  you  ten 
dollars?" 

"  Of  course  I  would,  if  I  had  the  time." 

"  Sit  down,  Mr.  Richard,  and  I  will  tell  you  a 
story ;  "  and  Ben  proceeded  to  relate  what  had  oc- 
curred in  the  saloon  of  Bob  Bleeker.  "  Are  you 
satisfied,  Miss  Bertha  ?  " 

"  I  am.  O  Richard,  how  could  you  do  such  a 
thing!" 

"  I  didn't  do  it." 

"  Let  me  see  the  half  eagles,  Ben.    I  remember 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       39 

the  date  of  one  of  them,  and  1  looked  at  them  so 
much  that  I  think  I  should  know  them  again." 

Ben  handed  her  the  gold  pieces,  and  she  was 
forced  to  acknowledge  that  they  were  the  coins 
she  had  lost.  The  one  whose  date  she  remembered 
had  a  spot  upon  it,  which  enabled  her  to  identify 
it 

"  O  Richard !  "  said  she,  bursting  into  tears.  "  I 
did  not  think  you  had  sunk  so  low!  What  will 
become  of  you?" 

"  I  suppose  I  must  run  away  and  go  to  sea,  or 
do  something  of  that  kind.  My  reputation  is 
spoiled  here." 

"  Oh,  no,  Richard !  Promise  to  be  a  better  boy, 
and  Ben  and  I  will  not  say  a  word  about  this." 

"  Ben  has  insulted  and  outraged  me." 

"  Sorry  for  it,  Mr.  Richard,  but  I  couldn't  help 
it.  The  matter  is  cleared  up  now,  and  I  haven't 
any  thing  more  to  say." 

"You  will  not  mention  this,  Ben — will  you?" 
pleaded  Bertha.  "  Dick  is  sorry  for  it,  and  he 
will  always  be  a  good  boy." 

"  I  never  talk  about  family  matters,  Miss  Ber- 
tha. Whatever  happens,  I  shall  never  say  a  word 
about  this  affair,"  replied  Ben,  as,  with  a  few  vig- 
orous strokes  of  his  oars,  he  placed  the  boat  along- 
side the  Greyhound. 


4O  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

Kichard,  stupefied  at  the  suddenness  with  which 
his  guilt  had  found  him  out,  stepped  mechanic- 
ally from  one  boat  into  the  other,  hardly  knowing 
what  he  was  doing.  Not  only  had  he  been  con- 
victed of  the  base  act  of  stealing  from  his  sister, 
but  he  was  deprived  of  the  means  of  attending 
the  race.  He  felt  as  if  some  terrible  disaster  was 
impending,  and  threw  himself  into  the  stern 
sheets  of  his  boat,  and  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands. 

"  Now,  Miss  Bertha,  I  will  row  you  up  to  the 
Glen  in  double-quick  time." 

"  I  don't  like  to  leave  Richard,  now.  He  must 
feel  dreadfully." 

"  I  hope  he  does.  It  will  do  him  good  to  spend 
a  few  hours  upon  the  stool  of  repentance.  Leave 
him  to  himself  for  a  while,  Miss  Bertha." 

"  But  perhaps  he  will  do  some  desperate  thing, 
Ben.  He  may  run  away,  as  he  threatened." 

"  No,  he  won't  He  hasn't  the  courage  to  run 
away.  He  knows  what  going  to  sea  means,  and  a 
young  gentleman  like  him  won't  do  any  such 
thing,"  said  Ben,  as  he  bent  upon  his  oars,  and 
the  boat  glided  away  in  the  direction  of  the  Glen. 

In  a  few  moments,  Ben  landed  his  fair  young 
charge  in  the  midst  of  her  anxious  disciples. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       41 

"  Now,  if  you  like,  Miss  Bertha,  I  will  pull 
back,  and  keep  an  eye  on  Mr.  Richard." 

"  Do,  Ben." 

"Shall  he  stay  about  home  to-day?"  asked 
Ben,  with  a  quiet  smile  on  his  bronzed  features. 

"  You  cannot  keep  him  at  home  if  he  chooses 
to  go  away." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  can,  Miss  Bertha,"  answered  the 
boatman,  confidently.  "  If  you  only  say  the  word, 
Miss  Bertha,  he  shall  stay  at  home;  and  he  will 
mind  me  just  like  a  whipped  kitten." 

"  Don't  be  too  hard  with  him,  Ben." 

"  O,  bless  you,  no !  I  will  handle  him  as  gently 
as  I  would  a  basket  of  eggs;  but  he  shall  mind 
me,  if  you  say  the  word.  It  is  none  of  my  busi- 
ness, but  I  don't  like  to  see  a  fine  boy,  like  Mas- 
ter Richard,  going  to  ruin  and  destruction  for  the 
want  of  a  steady  hand  at  the  helm." 

"  Do  as  you  think  best,  Ben,  but  don't  let  any 
harm  come  to  him." 

"  I  won't,  Miss  Bertha,"  replied  the  boatman,  as 
he  shoved  off,  and  pulled  towards  Woodville. 

Ben  had  once  been  a  boatswain  in  the  navy, 
and  was  accustomed  to  rigid  discipline.  He  un- 
derstood Richard's  case  exactly,  and  he  had  often 
regretted  that  he  was  not  authorized  to  train  him 


42  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

up  in  the  way  he  should  go.  The  father  was  igno- 
rant of  his  dissolute  life,  and  the  boatman  enter- 
tained some  doubts  whether  Mr.  Grant  had  the 
nerve  to  discipline  him  as  the  case  demanded. 
Bertha  was  a  power  and  an  influence  at  Wood- 
ville,  and  Ben  knew  that  whatever  she  counselled 
would  be  ratified  at  head-quarters. 

Richard  was  still  lying  on  the  cushions  of  the 
Greyhound  when  Ben  returned  from  the  Glen. 
Without  seeming  to  notice  the  young  reprobate, 
the  boatman  kept  one  eye  upon  him,  while  his 
hands  were  busied  in  carving  a  snake's  head  upon 
the  end  of  a  new  tiller  for  the  four-oar  boat. 
There  we  will  leave  them,  the  watcher  and  the 
watched,  and  return  to  the  Glen. 

"  We  thought  you  never  would  come,"  said  one 
of  the  little  savages,  as  Bertha  walked  up  to  the 
Retreat  with  them. 

The  Retreat  was  an  arbor,  which  was  com- 
pletely covered  with  vines,  and  in  which  seats  had 
been  built  by  the  ingenuity  of  Ben,  the  boatman, 
who  was  almost  as  much  interested  in  Bertha's 
mission  as  she  was  herself. 

"  Now,  take  your  seats,  children.  I  hope  you 
have  all  got  your  lessons  well,  for  we  have  a  great 
deal  to  do  to-day." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        43 

In  a  moment,  each  of  the  little  savages  took 
a  seat,  and  produced  the  book  which  Bertha  had 
furnished.  They  read,  spelled,  and  recited  arith- 
metic to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  the  teacher. 
New  lessons  were  assignee1  for  the  next  day,  and 
then  Bertha  proceeded  to  open  the  bundles  of  dry 
goods. 

"  Here  is  a  calico  dress  for  each  of  the  girls, 
and  here  is  some  jean  to  make  jackets  and  trou- 
sers for  the  boys.  We  must  be  as  busy  as  bees 
and  have  them  all  made  up  this  week." 

The  eyes  of  the  little  boys  and  girls  sparkled 
with  delight  at  this  display  of  treasures.  A 
Broadway  belle  or  a  Chestnut  Street  dandy  could 
not  have  been  more  enraptured  at  the  latest  im- 
portation from  Paris,  than  the  poor  children  of 
Dunk's  Hollow  were  at  the  sight  of  the  homely 
material  of  which  their  new  clothes  were  to  be 
made. 

But  the  more  serious  part  of  the  work  was  yet 
to  be  done,  and  consisted  in  the  cutting  and  fitting 
of  the  garments.  Ever  since  the  brilliant  idea  of 
supplying  her  flock  with  new  clothes  had  entered 
the  fertile  brain  of  Bertha,  she  had  studied  and 
practised  the  dressmaker's  art,  under  the  tuition 
of  Mrs.  Green,  the  housekeeper,  who  had  kindly 


44  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

afforded  her  all  the  instruction  she  needed.  She 
had  also  procured  patterns  for  the  jackets  and 
trousers,  and  patiently  examined  some  of  her 
brother's  old  clothes;  for  she  was  determined  that 
the  outfit  of  the  savages  should  be  fashioned  en- 
tirely by  her  own  hands. 

With  a  confidence  worthy  the  pioneer  mind  of  a 
Columbus,  she  tore  off  the  breadths  for  the  dresses, 
and  set  the  girls  at  work  in  running  them  to- 
gether. Then,  with  the  same  zeal  and  self-pos- 
session, she  proceeded  to  fit  the  waist  of  Gretchy 
Von  Brunt,  who  was  about  as  thick  as  she  was 
long,  and  not  exactly  a  model  of  female  elegance 
in  form.  It  was  a  trying  experiment  for  a  begin- 
ner, but  for  what  the  chief  operator  lacked  in  skill 
and  experience,  she  made  up  in  zeal  and  hope. 

At  twelve  o'clock  Ben  came  up  with  a  basket 
of  provisions  for  the  busy  troop  of  workers.  He 
reported  that  Richard  was  as  tame  as  a  lamb,  and 
had  gone  in  to  dinner  when  the  bell  rang.  He 
did  not  think  there  was  any  danger  of  his  doing  a 
desperate  deed.  But  Bertha  insisted  that  he 
should  return,  and  not  lose  sight  of  him  till  his 
father  came  home  from  the  city.  As  he  had  been 
instructed  in  the  morning,  Ben  brought  up  Ber- 
tha's boat,  in  which  she  intended  to  row  back  her- 
self, when  the  labors  of  the  day  were  finished. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       45 

While  the  girls  were  busily  engaged  upon  their 
dresses,  and  the  boys  were  bringing  stones  to  make 
a  walk  from  the  landing  place  to  the  Retreat,  a 
slight  rustling  was  heard  in  the  bushes,  near  the 
spot  where  the  dinner  things  had  been  left. 

"  Hoo !  Hoo !  Hoo !  "  were  the  cries  which  im- 
mediately issued  from  the  bushes. 

It  sounded  like  the  scream  of  some  wild  bird; 
but  neither  Bertha  nor  her  flock  were  frightened 
by  the  noise,  though  all  of  them  left  their  work, 
and  hastened  to  the  spot  from  which  it  pro- 
ceeded. 

"  It's  Noddy  Newman,"  said  Griffy  Von  Grunt, 
the  largest  of  the  three  boys  composing  the  mis- 
sion school — a  stout,  fat  little  Dutchman,  of  ten 
years  of  age. 

"  He  has  stolen  what  was  left  of  the  dinner," 
added  Bridget  McGee. 

"  And  he  will  steal  Miss  Bertha's  boat,"  said 
Billy  Ball,  as  he  and  Griffy  hastened  down  to  the 
landing  place,  intending  by  a  flank  movement  to 
protect  the  property  of  the  mistress. 

"  He  may  have  the  dinner,  if  he  will  not  carry 
off  the  basket  and  the  plates,"  added  Bertha, 
' Noddy!  Noddy!  Come  here  a  moment;  I  want 
to  see  you,"  called  she,  as  loud  as  she  could. 


4-0  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  No,  you  don't,"  replied  the  wild  boy  who  had 
caused  this  sudden  commotion.  "  None  of  your 
spelling  books  for  me.  I  like  your  dinner,  but  I 
don't  want  any  of  your  learning." 

Noddy  Newman  was  now  in  view  of  the  party. 
He  was  even  more  ragged  and  dirty  than  the  rag- 
gedest  and  dirtiest  of  the  Dunk's  Hollowites.  He 
wore  nothing  but  a  shirt  and  trousers  with  one 
auspender,  and  a  straw  hat,  of  which  less  than  one 
fourth  of  the  original  brim  remained.  Though  he 
was  said  to  be  thirteen  years  old,  he  was  smaller 
in  stature  than  Griffy  Von  Grunt;  but  he  was  as 
agile  and  quick  as  a  monkey. 

Noddy  had  no  parents.  They  had  lived  at  the 
Hollow  till  filth  and  dissipation  ended  their  days. 
Since  their  death,  Noddy  had  taken  care  of  him- 
self; sleeping  in  barns  and  outbuildings  at  night, 
and  begging  or  stealing  food  enough  to  keep  him 
alive. 

"  Come  to  me,  Noddy,"  repeated  Bertha.  "  I 
won't  hurt  you." 

"  I  know  you  won't.  You  can't ! "  roared  the 
wild  boy,  as  he  bounded  off,  with  the  speed  of  an 
antelope,  towards  the  river,  ending  his  flight  by 
running  up  a  large  tree  which  overhung  the  water. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       47 


48  Rich  and  Humble,  or 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN   WHICH    BERTHA    DOES    SOMETHING    TOWARDS 
CIVILIZING  NODDY  NEWMAN. 

BENEATH  the  tree  in  which  Noddy  Newman  had 
taken  refuge  lay  moored  a  nondescript  craft,  in 
which  the  wild  boy  made  his  aquatic  excursions. 
It  had  once  been  a  sugar-box,  and  by  what  art  or 
skill  the  little  savage  had  made  it  water-tight,  it 
would  have  puzzled  the  calkers  and  gravers  of 
the  region  to  determine.  It  certainly  floated,  and 
Noddy  navigated  it  about  the  river  with  as  much 
pride  and  satisfaction  as  if  it  had  been  the  fairy 
barge  of  Cleopatra.  It  was  fastened  by  a  string  to 
one  of  the  overhanging  branches  of  the  tree  in 
which  its  adventurous  skipper  was  now  lodged. 

It  was  pretty  evident,  from  the  position  of  his 
boat,  that  he  had  not  landed  in  the  ordinary  way, 
but  had  drawn  himself  up  into  the  tree,  and  come 
ashore  in  that  manner.  To  Bertha  and  her  young 
companions  it  was  a  daring  undertaking  to  em- 
bark in  the  sugar-box  by  the  way  of  the  tree, 
and  she  begged  him  not  to  attempt  it. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        49 

*'  Come  down,  Noddy,  and  I  will  put  you  into 
your  boat." 

"  I  ain't  one  of  your  children.  I  don't  have  any 
thing  to  do  with  your  reading  and  spelling,  and 
you  needn't  borrow  any  trouble  about  me." 

"  But  some  of  the  branches  are  rotten,  and  if 
you  should  fall  upon  the  rocks  below,  it  would 
kill  you/' 

"  I  ain't  going  to  fall.  I  know  better  than  that 
without  any  book  larninV 

"  Do  come  down,  Noddy.  I  will  give  you  some- 
thing if  you  will,"  pleaded  Bertha,  who,  besides 
being  alarmed  for  his  safety,  wished  to  converse 
with  him,  and  induce  him  to  join  the  school  in 
the  Glen. 

Noddy  had  thus  far  resisted  all  overtures  in  this 
direction,  and  had  never  allowed  himself  to  come 
near  enough  to  Bertha  to  enable  her  to  exercise 
any  influence  upon  him.  He  was  fond  of  his  free- 
dom, and  evidently  enjoyed  the  vagabond  life  he 
led.  The  authorities  of  Whitestone  had  once  made 
an  effort  to  commit  him  to  the  almshouse;  but 
when  an  attempt  was  made  to  catch  him,  he  dis- 
appeared for  some  weeks. 

Bertha  had  sent  him  several  presents,  with  mes- 
sages urging  him  to  join  her  little  flock;  but  he 


50  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

never  came  to  the  Glen  when  she  was  there,  un- 
less it  was  to  rob  the  basket  of  the  provisions 
brought  for  the  scholars.  Yet  she  did  not  abandon 
all  hope  of  winning  him  over  from  the  savage  life 
he  led. 

"  Have  you  had  dinner  enough,  Noddy?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have.  I  ate  all  there  was  in  the  bas- 
ket," replied  Noddy,  chuckling  with  delight  at  the 
thought  of  his  own  cleverness. 

"  Won't  you  come  down  and  talk  with  me?  I 
will  give  you  something." 

"  I  don't  want  any  thing." 

"  Come  down  and  talk  with  me,  then." 

"  I  haven't  got  any  thing  to  say,"  laughed 
Noddy. 

"  But  I  want  to  see  you." 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  you.  You  are  the  proud 
girl  from  Woodville,  and  I  don't  want  any  thing 
of  you." 

"  I  am  not  proud,  Noddy." 

"  Well,  you  are  rich." 

"  Come  down  to  me,  and  I  will  give  you  a  silver 
ten  cent  piece." 

"Don't  want  it;  if  I  should  go  to  buy  any 
thing  with  it,  they  would  catch  me  and  put  me 
in  the  workhouse." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        51 

"Don't  you  want  a  knife?  I  will  give  you 
mine,  if  you  will  go  up  to  the  arbor  with  me." 

"  I  have  got  a  better  knife  now  than  you  have. 
I  took  it  from  Bob  Bleeker's  boat." 

"  But  it  was  wrong  to  take  it  without  leave." 

"  I  don't  know  but  it  was.  If  it  was  I  can't 
help  it." 

As  he  spoke  these  words,  Noddy  began  to  move 
down  to  the  branch  from  which  he  could  drop 
into  his  boat.  As  he  did  so,  a  rotten  limb  which 
he  had  grasped  with  his  hands  suddenly  snapped, 
his  feet  slipped  from  the  branch,  and  he  fell,  strik- 
ing with  such  force  upon  the  sugar-box  craft,  that 
one  of  its  sides  was  split  off.  The  unfortunate 
boy  rolled  from  the  boat,  and  went  into  the  deep 
water.  A  sharp  cry  issued  from  his  mouth,  as  he 
struck  the  board,  and  then  disappeared  beneath 
the  surface  of  the  river. 

"  Mercy ! "  screamed  Bertha,  paralyzed  with 
horror,  as  she  witnessed  the  sad  mishap. 

"  Never  fear,  Miss  Bertha ;  he  can  swim  like  a 
fish,"  said  Griffy  Von  Grunt. 

"  But  the  fall  may  have  killed  him,"  gasped 
Bertha,  as  she  summoned  strength  enough  to  run 
to  her  boat,  which  was  moored  a  short  distance 
from  the  spot. 


52  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

At  the  same  time,  Griffy  leaped  into  the  river, 
and  swam  to  the  sugar-box.  In  a  moment  Noddy 
rose  to  the  surface;  but  he  did  not  attempt  to 
swim,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  fall  had  de- 
prived him  of  the  use  of  his  powers.  As  he  rose, 
Griffy  seized  him  by  the  arm,  and  held  him  above 
the  water  till  Bertha  came  up  with  the  boat. 
With  no  little  difficulty  they  lifted  him  in ;  but  the 
little  savage  appeared  to  be  dead.  On  his  temple 
there  was  a  deep  cut,  which  had  probably  been 
caused  by  the  nails  driven  into  the  side  of  the 
box,  to  answer  for  thole  pins. 

"What  shall  we  do?"  stammered  Bertha,  ter- 
ribly frightened  by  the  pale  face  and  motionless 
form  of  the  poor  boy.  "  I  will  take  him  down  to 
the  house.  Griffy,  you  may  go  with  me,  and  the 
rest  of  you  may  go  home." 

The  children  were  appalled  by  the  fearful  acci- 
dent, and  could  not  say  a  word.  Only  Griffy 
seemed  to  have  his  thoughts  about  him,  and  while 
Bertha  attempted  to  bind  up  the  bleeding  head  of 
Noddy,  he  rowed  with  all  his  might  towards  the 
pier  at  Woodville.  Ben  was  in  the  boat  house 
when  they  arrived,  and  taking  the  insensible  boy 
in  his  arms,  carried  him  up  to  the  house,  and  laid 
him  upon  the  bed,  in  Bertha's  chamber. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       53 

"  Now,  Ben,  go  over  to  Whitestone  as  fast  as 
you  can,  and  bring  the  doctor." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Bertha ;  but  I  don't  think  the  boy 
is  very  badly  hurt.  That  knock  on  the  head  has 
taken  away  his  senses;  but  he  will  be  all  right  in 
a  few  hours.  You  can't  kill  a  boy  like  that  so 
easily." 

"  Go  quick,  Ben.    I  am  afraid  he  is  dead  now." 

"  O,  bless  you !  no,  he  isn't.  Don't  be  frightened, 
Miss  Bertha.  Here  comes  Mrs.  Green." 

The  housekeeper's  opinion  coincided  with  that 
of  the  boatman,  that  Noddy  was  not  dangerously 
injured.  She  was  an  experienced  nurse,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  take  such  measures  for  the  relief  of  the 
sufferer  as  the  case  required.  Before  the  doctor 
arri  v'ed,  the  patient  began  to  exhibit  some  signs  of 
consciousness.  He  opened  his  eyes,  and  gazed 
around  the  room  with  a  bewildered  stare.  The 
costly  furniture  was  in  strong  contrast  with  any 
thing  he  had  ever  before  seen,  and  it  was  no 
wonder  that  he  was  bewildered. 

As  if  conscious  that  he  was  not  in  his  proper 
element,  he  suddenly  attempted  to  rise,  but  sank 
back  upon  the  bed  with  a  deep  groan,  and  closed 
his  eyes  again.  The  arrival  of  the  doctor  was 
gladly  welcomed  by  Bertha.  After  a  patient  ex- 


54  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

animation,  he  declared  that  the  boy  was  badly 
hurt;  that  three  of  his  ribs  were  fractured,  and 
that  he  was  probably  injured  internally. 

Before  evening  Noddy  was  in  full  possession  of 
his  senses,  but  was  suffering  intense  pain.  Bertha 
remained  by  his  side,  ministering  to  all  his  wants 
with  as  much  zeal  and  interest  as  though  the 
patient  had  been  her  own  brother. 

When  Mr.  Grant  came  home,  he  found  his 
daughter  bending  over  the  sick  bed  of  the  friend- 
less outcast,  and  then,  more  than  ever  before,  he 
realized  what  a  treasure  he  possessed  in  this  dar- 
ling child.  Richard  was  proud  and  haughty,  but 
Bertha  was  a  friend  to  the  poor;  humble  even  in 
possession  of  all  the  luxury  and  splendor  which 
the  world  can  afford. 

Mr.  Grant  listened  with  pleasure  to  Bertha's 
narrative  of  the  events  of  the  day.  Of  the  con- 
duct of  her  brother  in  the  morning  she  said 
nothing,  for  she  had  decided  to  wait  till  necessity 
compelled  her  to  do  so.  She  hoped  Richard  would 
reform  his  life,  and  as  he  had  given  up  the  race, 
she  was  encouraged  to  believe  that  he  was  taking 
the  first  steps  towards  amendment. 

The  next  day  Noddy  was  feverish,  and  for  a 
week  he  suffered  a  great  deal.  Bertha  took  care 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       55 

of  him  most  of  the  time  during  the  day,  while 
Ben  and  the  housekeeper  attended  him  at  night. 
Every  day  the  boatman  brought  the  children  of 
the  school  from  the  Glen  to  the  house,  where,  with 
the  assistance  of  Mrs.  Green  and  the  chamber- 
maids, the  garments  of  the  boys  and  girls  were 
completed,  and  as  soon  as  Noddy  began  to  im- 
prove, Bertha  gave  them  a  picnic  on  Van  Alstine's 
Island. 

But  the  sick  boy  was  not  willing  that  his 
little  nurse  should  leave  him.  His  severe  sickness 
seemed  to  have  produced  a  wonderful  effect  upon 
him.  It  softened  his  heart,  and  made  him  more 
human  than  he  had  ever  been  before.  He  had 
became  strongly  attached  to  Bertha,  and  listened 
attentively  to  the  gentle  lessons  of  wisdom  with 
which  she  improved  the  hours  of  his  convales- 
cence. 

It  was  a  fortnight  before  he  was  able  to  sit  up, 
and  a  month  before  he  could  go  out  of  the  house; 
but  much  of  the  spirit  of  his  life  and  character 
had  returned  to  him,  and  he  longed  for  the  health 
and  strength  which  would  enable  him  to  roam  the 
fields  and  forests,  and  sail  upon  the  river,  as  he 
had  done  before  his  fall. 

"  I  shall  be  so  glad  to  be  well  again ! "  ex- 


56  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

claimed  he,  as  he  walked  on  the  lawn  one  day 
with  Bertha. 

"  What  will  you  do  then?  " 

"  I  shall  run,  and  climb,  and  sail,  as  I  used  to 
do;  but  I  will  go  to  your  school,  Miss  Bertha." 

"  Don't  you  want  to  do  something  better  than 
spend  your  time  in  idleness?" 

"What  can  I  do?" 

"  You  can  learn  to  be  a  useful  and  respectable 
man." 

"  I  don't  think  I  skall  ever  be  of  any  use  to 
any  one  but  myself.  It  was  queer  that  I  fell  that 
day,  after  I  had  told  you  I  knew  enough  not 
to  fall." 

"  It  was  all  for  tke  best,  Noddy." 

"  I  don't  believe  that.  How  could  it  be  best 
for  me  to  stave  in  my  ribs,  and  lie  here,  like  a 
fool,  for  a  month  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  will  prove  to  be  the  best  thing  that 
ever  happened  to  you." 

"  You  don't  mean  *o,  Miss  Bertha,"  said  the 
pale  boy,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  do,  Noddy.  Our  misfortunes  are  blessings  to 
us;  and  we  ought  to  be  as  thankful  for  them  as 
for  the  prosperity  we  enjoy.  If  you  had  continued 
your  wild  life  much  longer,  you  would  probably 
have  been  taken  up  and  sent  to  prison." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       57 

Noddy  made  no  reply,  but  kept  thinking  of 
what  Bertha  had  said.  He  could  not  fully  compre- 
hend such  wisdom,  though  he  could  not  help  be- 
lieving that  his  coming  to  Woodville  was  a  great 
event  in  his  life.  His  fair  instructress  improved 
the  advantage  ahe  had  obtained,  and  the  little 
savage  was  already  more  than  half  civilized. 

During  the  month  that  Noddy  had  been  confined 
to  the  house,  Richard  did  not  once  visit  White- 
stone,  or  meet  any  of  his  former  dissolute  compan- 
ions; but  whether  this  was  from  mortification  at 
his  failure  to  sail  the  Greyhound  with  Tom  Mul- 
len, or  because  he  had  really  commenced  upon  a 
new  life,  was  a  matter  of  painful  doubt  to  Bertha. 
His  father  steadily  refused  to  supply  him  with 
money,  and  he  spent  most  of  the  time  at  home. 
He  would  not  permit  any  allusion  to  the  half 
eagles,  either  by  his  sister  or  the  boatman. 

He  was  gloomy  and  taciturn.  When  he  used 
the  Greyhound,  he  did  not  go  near  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  and  carefully  avoided  meeting 
any  other  boats,  especially  those  belonging  to 
Whitestone.  One  day,  as  he  was  sailing  near  the 
island,  he  observed  a  great  commotion  on  board  of 
a  passing  steamer,  and  soon  ascertained  that  a 
man  had  fallen  overboard.  Trimming  his  sails,  he 


58  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

bore  down  upon  the  spot,  and  succeeded  in  saving 
the  stranger  from  a  watery  grave. 

In  the  gratitude  of  his  heart,  the  gentleman  pre- 
sented him  with  fifty  dollars  in  gold,  as  he  landed 
him  on  the  pier  at  Whitestone,  where  the  steamer 
had  made  a  landing. 

"  Your  name,  young  man,"  said  the  gentleman. 

"  John  Green,"  replied  Richard,  after  some  hesi- 
tation. 

"  God  bless  you,  John  Green !  I  shall  remem- 
ber your  name  as  long  as  I  live,"  added  the 
stranger,  as  he  shook  him  warmly  by  the  hand, 
and  hastened  on  board  of  the  steamer. 

"  John  Green !  "  muttered  Richard  to  himself, 
as  he  turned  the  bow  of  his  boat  towards  Wood- 
ville.  "  I'm  rich  now,  and  that  boat  race  shall 
come  off  yet." 

If  any  one  had  asked  Richard  why  he  had  given 
a  false  name  to  the  gentleman  whose  life  he  had 
saved,  his  pride  would  not  have  permitted  him  to 
acknowledge  the  meanness  of  the  motive  which 
prompted  the  falsehood.  It  was  that  he  might 
conceal  the  fact  of  possessing  so  large  a  sum  of 
money  from  the  family  at  Woodville. 

The  next  day,  the  Greyhound  made  another  visit 
to  Whitestone,  and  the  terms  of  the  contest  be- 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        59 

tween  the  two  boats  were  arranged.  Kichard  ex- 
cused his  long  absence  upon  the  plea  that  he  had 
been  sick,  and  his  graceless  companions  were  too 
glad  to  see  him  again  to  find  much  fault.  The 
race  was  to  take  place  in  three  days,  and  the 
stakes  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  Bob  Bleeker, 
who  was  to  act  as  umpire  upon  the  great  occasion. 

On  the  day  before  the  race,  Richard  had  the 
bottom  of  the  Greyhound  cleaned,  her  sails  and 
ropes  carefully  adjusted,  and  every  thing  done  that 
would  add  a  particle  to  his  chance  of  winning  the 
regatta.  This  time  he  kept  his  own  counsel,  and 
did  not  even  tell  Ben  of  the  coming  race. 

The  fifty  dollars  in  his  pocket  had  brought  a 
great  change  in  the  manner  of  Richard.  He  was 
no  longer  dull  and  gloomy,  but  full  of  life  and 
energy.  None  of  the  family  or  the  servants  knew 
it  was  he  who  had  saved  the  stranger  from  drown- 
ing, and  with  all  the  neighborhood,  had  wondered 
who  John  Green  was.  No  one  had  ever  heard  of 
him  before,  and  the  more  they  wondered,  the  more 
Richard  chuckled  over  his  own  cunning  and  de- 
ception. 

When  Richard  had  completed  his  preparations 
for  the  race,  he  sat  in  the  stern-sheets  of  the 
Greyhound,  thinking  of  the  triumph  he  was  so 
confident  of  winning. 


60  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"Richard!  Richard!"  called  Bertha  from  the 
pier. 

"  What  do  you  want,  Berty  ?  " 

"  Father  hasn't  come  home." 

'•'  Well,  what  of  it?" 

"  The  train  has  arrived,  and  he  did  not  come  in 
it.  Where  do  you  suppose  he  is?"  continued 
Bertha,  as  she  stepped  into  her  boat,  and  rowed 
to  the  Greyhound. 

"  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  he  was  talking  politics, 
and  forgot  to  get  out  at  the  station,"  replied  Rich- 
ard, indifferently. 

"No;  Mr.  Barton  said  he  was  not  in  the  cars." 

"  He  is  safe  enough." 

"  He  has  looked  very  sad  and  troubled  for 
several  days.  I  am  afraid  something  has  hap- 
pened," added  Bertha,  as  she  pulled  back  to  the 
wharf. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        61 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN  WHICH  BERTKA  HEARS  GOOD  NEWS  AND  BAD  NEWS. 

THE  return  of  her  father  from  the  city  was 
a  happy  event  to  Bertha,  and  she  was  always  the 
first  to  greet  him  on  his  arrival.  It  was  an  every- 
day occurrence,  but  it  lost  none  of  its  interest 
on  this  account.  He  was  the  only  parent  she  had, 
and  his  smile,  as  she  welcomed  him  home,  was 
worth  all  the  watching  and  waiting  which  it  cost. 

When,  therefore,  on  that  eventful  evening,  the 
man  who  had  gone  to  drive  him  up  from  the  rail- 
road station  returned  without  him,  gloomy  fore- 
bodings filled  her  mind.  Her  father  was  very  regu- 
lar and  methodical  in  his  habits,  and  had  never 
missed  a  train,  or  remained  away  over  night  with- 
out announcing  his  intention  to  do  so  beforehand. 
This  fact,  added  to  the  sad  and  anxious  look  which 
Mr.  Grant  had  worn  for  several  days,  was  enough 
to  awaken  painful  thoughts,  even  in  a  mind  less 
sensitive  than  that  of  Bertha. 

The  long,  gloomy  night  wore  away  without  any 


62  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

tidings  from  the  absent  father.  Richard  slept,  and 
Fanny  slept,  but  Bertha  scarcely  closed  her  eyes, 
so  deeply  was  she  impressed  with  the  dread  of 
some  coming  calamity.  Long  before  sunrise,  she 
left  her  chamber,  and  wandered  up  and  down  the 
walks  upon  the  lawn,  trying  to  make  herself  be- 
lieve that  nothing  had  happened  to  her  father. 

"  Why,  Miss  Bertha,  how  pale  you  are  this 
morning!"  exclaimed  Noddy,  as  he  met  her  on 
the  lawn,  after  the  first  bell  had  rung.  "  Are  you 
sick?" 

"  No,  Noddy,  I  am  not  sick." 

"  What  ails  you,  then  ?  Is  it  because  your 
father  did  not  come  home  last  night?" 

"  Not  because  he  did  not '  come  home,  but  be- 
cause I  fear  something  has  happened  to  him." 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  I  haven't  got  any  father  to 
bother  me  like  that!  I  never  had  any  trouble 
about  my  relations,"  laughed  Noddy. 

"  You  must  not  talk  so,  Noddy ;  it  does  not 
sound  well.  If  you  had  a  good  and  kind  father, 
as  I  have,  he  would  be  a  great  joy  to  you." 

"  But  your  father  don't  seem  to  be  a  great  joy  to 
you  just  now,"  added  Noddy,  whose  philosophy 
had  been  developed  at  the  expense  of  his  affections. 

"  Yes,  he  is ;  and  even  if  I  knew  that  he  were 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        63 

dead  " — and  Bertha  shuddered  as  she  uttered  the 
words — "  the  remembrance  of  his  love  and  kind- 
ness would  still  be  a  great  joy  to  me." 

"  Well,  I  don't  understand  those  things,  and  I 
suppose  I  ought  not  to  say  any  thing  about  them," 
said  Noddy,  as  he  observed  the  great  tear  that 
slid  down  the  pale  cheek  of  Bertha.  "  There's 
going  to  be  a  race  to-day." 

"What  kind  of  a  race?" 

"  Mr.  Richard  is  going  to  race  with  Tom  Mul- 
len. Each  one  put  up  five  dollars,  and  Bob 
Bleeker  has  got  the  money." 

Bertha  was  shocked  at  this  piece  of  news,  for 
it  assured  her  that  her  brother  had  never  made  a 
resolution  to  abandon  his  evil  associates,  or  that 
he  had  broken  it. 

"  Are  you  sure  of  what  you  say,  Noddy  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  am  certain  of  it.  Tom  Mullen  told 
me  all  about  it  yesterday." 

"  Where  did  you  see  him?  " 

"  I  saw  him  on  the  river.  You  know  you  lent 
me  your  boat  to  go  up  to  the  island,  and  I  met 
him  on  my  way  back.  The  reason  why  he  told 
me  was,  that  he  wanted  to  know  what  Mr.  Rich- 
ard had  been  doing  to  his  boat,  to  make  her  sail 
faster." 


64  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  ringing 
of  the  breakfast  bell.  Bertha  noticed  that  Rich- 
ard was  more  than  usually  excited.  He  hurried 
through  the  morning  meal,  and  hastened  down  to 
the  wharf,  whither  Bertha  followed  him,  and 
joined  him  on  board  the  Greyhound. 

"  I  wish  you  would  take  the  morning  train  to 
the  city,  Richard,  and  ascertain  what  has  become 
of  father,"  said  Bertha,  as  she  stepped  into  the 
sail  boat.  "  I  feel  almost  sure  something  has  hap- 
pened to  him." 

"  I  can't  go  to-day,"  replied  Richard,  impa- 
tiently. 

"Why  not,  Dick?" 

"  Because  I  can't.  I  think  that  is  reason 
enough." 

"  How  rude  you  are !  If  yon  felt  as  badly  as  I 
do,  you  would  be  glad  to  go." 

"Badly?  Why  should  you  feel  badly?  Don't 
you  think  father  is  old  enough,  and  knows  enough, 
to  take  care  of  himself?" 

"  You  know  he  has  the  heart  complaint, 
and " 

Bertha  could  not  complete  her  sentence,  for 
there  was  in  her  mind  a  vivid  picture  of  her  father 
lying  dead  in  his  office,  where  he  might  have 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       65 

fallen  when  there  was  no  one  near  to  help  him,  or 
even  to  witness  his  expiring  agony.  She  burst 
into  tears  and  wept  in  silence,  with  the  awful 
picture  still  before  her  mental  vision.  Richard, 
disturbed  by  none  of  his  sister's  doubts  or  fears, 
coolly  cast  loose  the  sails  of  the  Greyhound,  and 
made  his  preparations  for  the  exciting  event  of 
the  day.  Bertha  continued  to  weep,  without  his 
sympathy  or  even  his  notice,  for  a  time. 

"  My  poor  father  I "  sobbed  Bertha. 

"What  are  you  crying  about,  Berty?" 

"  I  am  almost  certain  that  something  has  hap- 
pened to  father.  He  never  stayed  away  over  night 
before  without  letting  us  know  where  he  was." 

"  O,  nonsense !  He  is  full  of  business,  and  some- 
thing has  detained  him.  If  he  were  sick,  or  any 
thing  worse  had  happened  to  him,  we  should 
have  heard  of  it  before  this  time.  I  tell  you  it  is 
all  right." 

"  Even  if  it  is  all  right,  it  will  do  no  harm  to 
ascertain  the  fact.  You  can  go  to  the  city  this 
morning,  and  return  by  the  noon  train,"  said  Ber- 
tha, whose  anxiety  for  her  father  had  over- 
shadowed every  thing  else,  and  even  made  her  for- 
get the  race  of  which  Noddy  had  told  her. 

"  I  told  you  I  couldn't  go  this  morning,"  an- 


66  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

swered  he,  petulantly.  "  Why  don't  you  go  your- 
self?" 

"  I  cannot  leave  to-day.  Fanny  is  to  have  her 
party  this  afternoon." 

"  Well,  I  can't  go,  and  it  is  of  no  use  to  talk 
about  it.  I  have  an  engagement  that  I  must  keep." 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  going  with  that  wicked 
Tom  Mullen  again,"  added  she,  as  Noddy's  un- 
pleasant intelligence  recurred  to  her  mind. 

"  I  don't  want  any  preaching." 

"  You  are  going  with  those  boys  again !  O 
Richard!  I  beg  of  you,  do  not." 

"  What's  the  matter  now?  "  sneered  Richard. 

"  Stay  at  home  to-day  with  me,  Richard.  You 
don't  know  how  lonely  and  sad  I  feel." 

"  The  more  fool  you !  " 

"  How  unkind  you  are,  Dick !  " 

"Come,  Berty,  don't  whine  any  more;  that's  a 
good  girl,"  said  he,  changing  his  tone  as  policy, 
rather  than  feeling,  seemed  to  dictate.  "  If  father 
doesn't  come  home  before  three  o'clock,  and  you 
don't  hear  from  him,  I  will  agree  to  go  to  the 
city  by  the  afternoon  train,  and  find  out  where  he 
is.  Positively,  Berty,  that  is  the  best  I  can  do. 
Now,  be  a  good  girl,  Berty,  and  go  ashore,  or 
you  won't  be  ready  for  Fanny's  party." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       67 

"  I  feel  almost  as  bad  for  you  as  I  do  for 
father,"  sobbed  Bertha. 

"  Why,  what  under  the  canopy  of  Jupiter  has 
got  into  you  now?"  exclaimed  Richard,  suspend- 
ing his  work,  and  looking  in  her  face  with  aston- 
ishment. 

"  I  know  you  are  going  to  do  something  wrong 
to-day,  Dick." 

"  Do  you,  indeed  ?  Then  you  are  a  long  way 
ahead  of  my  time.  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  You  are  going  to  sail  your  boat  against  Tom 
Mullen's." 

"Who  told  you  that?" 

"Isn't  it  so,  Dick?" 

"Well,  suppose  it  is;  what  then?  There  is  no 
great  harm  in  racing  boats,  I  hope." 

"  And  you  have  put  up  five  dollars,  as  a  bet,  on 
the  race." 

"Who  told  you  this?" 

"Is  it  true,  Dick?" 

"Perhaps  it  is,  and  perhaps  it  isn't;  what 
then  ?  " 

"  You  don't  answer  me,  Dick !  " 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  thing  as  a  race 
for  nothing?"  answered  he,  sullenly.  "I  would 
give  another  five  dollars  to  know  who  told  you 
this." 


68  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  Money  seems  to  be  very  plenty  with  you, 
though  father  hasn't  given  you  any  for  six  or  seven 
.weeks." 

"  Now,  you  have  said  enough,  Berty,  and  you 
may  go  ashore.  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to 
listen  to  your  preaching,  and  have  you  domineer 
over  me,  like  that?  If  you  don't  leave  the  boat 
I  will  help  you  ashore,"  said  Richard,  who  was 
now  so  angry  that  he  had  lost  control  of  himself. 

"  Don't  be  angry,  Richard.  You  are  my  brother 
and  you  know  I  would  not  willingly  offend  you." 

"  That's  just  what  you  are  doing." 

"  But  you  are  going  with  those  bad  boys  again. 
You  are  taking  your  first  steps  in  gambling.  If 
you  knew  how  bad  these  things  make  me  feel, 
you  wouldn't  be  cross  to  me.  I  don'  want  to 
have  my  brother  like  Tom  Mullen." 

"  Now,  shut  up !  Don't  whine  any  more  over 
me.  I  am  able  to  take  care  of  myself,  and  I 
don't  want  a  sermon  from  you  every  time  you  hap- 
pen to  have  the  blues." 

"Where  did  you  get  the  money,  Dick,  to  bet 
on  the  race?" 

"  That's  none  of  your  business,"  replied  Richard 
rndely.  "  Do  you  mean  to  hint  that  I  stole  it?  " 

*  I  hope  not,  Dick." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        69 

"  If  you  haven't  any  better  opinion  of  me  than 
that,  you  had  better  hold  your  tongue." 

"  You  remember  the  other  time,  when  you  were 
going  to  have  this  race  with  Tom  Mullen?  You 
know  what  you  were  tempted  to  do  that  time?  " 

"  That  was  father's  money,  and  just  as  much 
mine  as  it  was  yours.  You  wouldn't  lend  me  the 
money,  and  you  see  what  you  made  me  do." 

"  I  only  wanted  to  keep  you  away  from  those 
boys.  If  father  were  at  home,  you  know  he 
wouldn't  let  you  go." 

"  He  couldn't  help  himself,"  growled  Richard ; 
"  and  you  can't ;  so  you  may  as  well  go  into  the 
house,  and  hold  your  tongue." 

"  Won't  you  give  up  this  race  for  my  sake, 
Richard?"  pleaded  the  poor  girl,  whose  solicitude 
was  now  divided  between  her  father  and  her 
brother. 

"  No,  I  won't !  All  the  teasing,  scolding,  preach- 
ing, fretting,  and  threatening  in  the  world  won't 
make  me  back  out  this  time." 

"  At  least  tell  me  where  you  got  the  money 
that  you  put  up." 

"  I  won't  do  that,  either,"  said  Richard,  stoutly. 
"  I  came  honestly  by  it,  and  that's  enough  for  you 
to  know.  You  need  not  scold  or  threaten  any 
more,  but  go  home." 


70  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  haven't  threatened  you,"  sighed  Bertha : 
"  you  know  I  didn't  tell  father  about  the  ten  dol- 
lars." 

"  I  know  you  didn't ;  but  you  told  him  I  went 
with  Tom  Mullen  and  the  rest  of  the  fellows,  and 
that  was  just  as  bad." 

"  I  did  it  for  your  good." 

"  If  you  won't  go  ashore,  I  will ! "  said  Richard, 
angrily,  as  he  jumped  into  his  skiff  and  paddled 
to  the  wharf  as  fast  as  he  could. 

Poor  Bertha,  trembling  for  her  father  and  her 
brother,  was  sorely  tried  by  the  unfeeling  conduct 
of  the  latter.  She  could  do  nothing  to  restore  the 
one  or  redeem  the  other.  Richard  would  go, 
though  she  had  done  all  she  could  to  prevent  him 
from  doing  so.  As  she  sat  weeping  in  the  boat, 
she  tried  to  think  of  some  plan  to  keep  Richard 
at  home.  She  knew  that  Ben  could  do  it;  that 
ie  would  even  lock  him  up  in  the  boat  house,  if 
she  wished  him  to  do  so;  but  she  was  unwilling 
to  resort  to  extreme  measures. 

Whatever  else  might  be,  it  was  certain  that  cry- 
ing would  do  no  good;  and  summoning  all  her 
resolution,  she  dried  her  tears,  and  determined  to 
make  the  best  of  her  trying  situation.  Stepping 
into  the  boat,  she  rowed  to  the  shore.  Her  reso- 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       71 

lution  was  already  imparting  new  courage  to  her 
soul,  and  she  felt  that  she  could  endure  all  that 
might  be  in  store  for  her.  But  she  did  not  aban- 
don her  purpose  to  save  her  brother.  He  had 
left  her  in  anger,  and  she  hoped,  when  he  became 
himslf  again,  that  he  would  hear  her. 

As  she  passed  up  the  path  towards  the  house, 
where  Richard  had  gone,  she  saw  Ben  hastening 
towards  her  with  all  the  speed  his  rheumatic 
joints  would  permit.  As  he  approached  he  held  up 
a  letter,  which  caused  Bertha's  heart  to  beat  with 
hope  and  fear. 

"  Here  is  a  letter,  Miss  Bertha.  The  hand- 
writing is  your  father's ;  so  I  suppose  nothing  has 
happened  to  him,"  said  Ben,  as  he  gave  her  the 
letter. 

"I  hope  not.  Where  did  you  get  it?"  asked 
Bertha,  as  she  tore  open  the  envelope. 

"  The  conductor  on  the  morning  train  brought 
it  up." 

Bertha's  face  lighted  up  with  pleasure  as  she 
read  the  first  line ;  but  as  she  proceeded  with  the 
letter,  her  expression  changed,  and  the  shade  of 
sadness  deepened  into  a  look  of  grief  and  alarm. 
The  letter  was  as  follows : — 


72  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  NEW  YORK  CITY,  August  12. 

"  Mr  DEAR  CHILDREN  :  An  unexpected  event  de- 
tained me  in  the  city  last  night,  and  prevented 
me  from  sending  you  any  word  that  I  could  not 
go  home  as  usual;  but  I  am  alive  and  well,  and 
I  hope  my  unexplained  absence  did  not  cause  you 
any  anxiety  or  alarm. 

"  But,  my  dear  children,  the  event  to  which  I 
allude  promises  the  most  serious  consequences  to 
me  in  my  business  relations,  and  before  many  days 
you  may  be  called  upon  to  share  with  me  the  tri- 
als and  misfortunes  from  which  only  a  few  men  in 
active  business  life  can  be  exempted.  You  may 
be  compelled  to  give  up  the  comforts  and  lux- 
uries of  our  elegant  home ;  but  while  your  father 
retains  his  honor  and  integrity,  can  you  not  bear 
with  him  the  loss  of  every  thing  else?  I  do  not 
yet  know  the  extent  of  my  misfortune,  and  I  have 
only  mentioned  it  that  you  might  the  sooner  learn 
to  endure  with  patience  the  change  to  which  we 
must  submit. 

"  I  shall  not  be  able  to  go  home  to-night  or  to- 
morrow night — perhaps  not  for  several  days.  I 
am  much  distressed  by  the  aspect  of  my  business 
affairs ;  but  it  would  be  a  great  relief  to  me,  when 
I  do  go  home,  to  find  that  my  children  have  the 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       73 

courage  to  endure  the  heavy  blow  that  has  come 
upon  us.  Be  patient  and  hopeful,  and  all  will  yet 
be  well  with  us. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

FRANKLIN  GRANT." 

Bertha  was  astonished  and  bewildered  by  the 
contents  of  this  letter.  She  told  the  boatman  that 
her  father  was  alive  and  well ;  but  she  deemed  it 
prudent  to  conceal  the  rest  of  the  letter  from  him 
for  the  present.  The  bad  news  it  contained  would 
travel  fast  enough,  without  any  assistance  from 
her. 

While  reading  the  letter,  she  had  seen  Richard 
come  out  of  the  house  and  walk  off  in  another 
direction.  She  asked  Ben  to  find  him,  and  send 
him  to  the  house,  where  she  went  herself,  rejoiced 
to  find  her  worst  fears  were  not  realized,  but  al- 
most stunned  by  the  shock  which  the  letter  had 
given  her.  It  was  terrible  to  think  of  leaving 
Woodville;  to  step  down  from  the  pinnacle  of 
wealth  to  the  low  level  of  poverty;  but,  as  she 
had  been  rich  and  humble,  the  fall  would  be  a 
gentle  one  to  her;  yet  how  terrible  to  Richard 
and  Fanny! 

Richard  read  the  letter,  turned  pale,  and  won- 


74  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

dered  what  it  all  meant.  Bertha  said  it  was  plain 
that  her  father  had  failed  in  business.  She  was 
calm  and  resigned,  he  was  morose  and  sullen. 

"  You  will  not  go  to  the  race  now,  Dick?  "  she 
asked. 

"  I  will !  "  and  he  rushed  out  of  the  house,  down 
the  hill,  to  the  wharf;  but  when  he  got  there,  noth- 
ing but  the  topmast  of  the  Greyhound  could  be 
seen. 

She  had  sunk  in  fifteen  feet  of  water ! 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       75 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  WHICH  BEETHA  REASONS  WITH  HER  BROTHER  AND 
THE   GREYHOUND   FLOATS  AGAIN. 

THE  rage  of  Richard  knew  no  bounds  when  he 
discovered  the  topmast  of  the  Greyhound,  with  the 
little  tri-colored  flag  still  flaunting  upon  it,  rising 
but  a  few  feet  above  the  waves  of  the  Hudson. 
There  she  had  floated,  as  gayly  and  as  buoyantly 
as  a  swan,  only  an  hour  before.  But  there  was 
no  one  near  to  hear  his  exclamations  of  wrath 
and  disappointment,  as  he  beheld  the  ruin  of  all 
his  hopes  for  that  day.  I  am  sorry  to  add  that 
he  swore  roundly;  but  a  boy  who  could  associate 
with  rowdies  and  blacklegs  would  not  be  too  nice 
to  use  profane  language. 

While  he  was  still  venting  his  impotent  frenzy, 
Ben  arrived  at  the  wharf.  The  boatman  had  not 
discovered  the  calamity  which  had  befallen  the 
Greyhound  till  he  reached  the  wharf,  for  the 
gloomy  expression  of  Bertha  still  haunted  his 
mind,  and  he  was  wondering  what  had  happened 
to  cover  with  shadows  the  face  which  was  wont 


76  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

to  be  all  sunshine.  When  he  raised  his  eyes  from 
the  ground,  and  looked  off  upon  the  water, — as  an 
old  sailor  always  does  when  he  first  comes  near  the 
sea,  or  on  deck  from  below, — he  saw  the  flaunting 
flag  of  the  Greyhound,  fifteen  feet  lower  down 
than  when  he  had  last  looked  upon  it,  and  he 
appeared  to  be  quite  as  much  surprised  as  Rich- 
ard. 

"Ben,  who  did  that?"  roared  Richard,  as  the 
boatman  moved  out  to  the  end  of  the  wharf. 

He  was  almost  bursting  with  anger  and  vexa- 
tion ;  and  no  doubt  his  mind  was  filled  with  sus- 
picions and  conjectures  in  regard  to  the  author  of 
this  mischief,  for  he  had  already  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  it  had  an  author,  as  the  Greyhound 
would  never  have  done  so  mean  a  thing  as  to 
sink  without  assistance. 

Ben  was  an  elderly  man,  and  he  had  always 
been  treated  with  consideration  and  respect  by 
Mr.  Grant  and  all  his  household;  therefore  he 
felt  that  the  tone  with  which  "  Mr.  Richard  "  ad- 
dressed him  was  not  proper,  or  even  tolerable. 

"  I  don't  know,  Mr.  Richard,"  replied  the  boat- 
man, in  a  gruff,  man-of-war  tone,  and  without  even 
condescending  to  express  any  regret  or  surprise 
at  the  singular  event. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        77 

"  If  I  knew  who  did  it,  I  would  kill  him ! " 
foamed  Richard. 

"  Then  it  is  lucky  for  him  that  you  don't  know," 
added  Ben,  rather  coolly. 

"  She  didn't  sink  herself." 

"  I  didn't  say  she  did,  Mr.  Richard." 

"Then  who  did  it?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Yes,  you  do  know ;  and  if  you  don't  tell  me, 
I'll  hold  you  responsible  for  it,"  said  Richard  with 
an  emphasis  which  ought  to  have  produced  a 
startling  effect  upon  the  old  boatman. 

But  it  did  not  appear  to  produce  any  effect ;  for 
Ben  hitched  up  his  long  blue  trousers,  turned  upon 
his  heel,  and  slowly  walked  off. 

"  Why  don't  you  answer  me,  Ben  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  any  thing  to  say,  Mr.  Richard,"  re- 
plied the  old  man,  continuing  his  walk  up  the 
wharf. 

"  How  daro  you  turn  your  back  upon  me  in 
that  manner?  Come  back  here,  and  answer  my 
questions." 

As  Ben  would  not  come  back,  Richard  went  to 
him,  and,  with  clinched  fists,  placed  himself  in 
front  of  the  old  boatman,  as  though  he  meant 
to  thrash  him  on  the  spot  for  his  impudence.  If 


78  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

Richard  had  been  himself,  as  his  humpbacked 
namesake  declared  he  was  on  a  certain  occasion, 
he  would  not  have  ventured  into  this  belligerent 
attitude.  He  was  beside  himself  with  passion,  and 
there  was  neither  wisdom  nor  discretion  left  in 
him. 

"  Mr.  Richard,"  said  the  boatman,  after  he  had 
deliberately  surveyed  the  youngster  from  head  to 
foot  for  a  moment,  "you  are  my  employer's  son, 
and  I  don't  want  to  harm  you;  but  I  don't  allow 
any  one  to  insult  me.  I  am  a  poor  man,  but 
there  isn't  any  body  in  the  world  that  is  rich 
enough  to  insult  me.  Now,  get  out  of  my  way." 

"  Tell  me  who  sunk  that  boat !  " 

The  great,  broad  hand  of  the  old  boatman  sud- 
denly dropped  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  youngster, 
a  vigorous  shaking  followed,  and  he  was  laid  upon 
the  ground  as  gently  as  a  mother  would  deposit 
her  babe  in  the  cradle.  That  strong  arm  was  too 
much  for  Richard,  and  when  he  roee,  he  placed  a 
respectful  distance  between  himself  and  the  owner 
of  it. 

"  You  did  it !  I  know  you  did !  "  growled  Rich- 
ard. "  I  will  pay  you  for  it  before  you  are  many 
days  older." 

Ben  deigned  no  reply  to  this  rude  speech,  but 
walked  up  the  lawn  towards  the  house.  On  his 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        79 

way  he  was  met  by  Bertha,  who  from  her  window 
had  discovered  the  mishap  which  had  befallen  the 
Greyhound,  as  well  as  witnessed  the  scene  we  have 
just  described ;  and  she  was  coming  down  to  make 
peace  between  the  parties. 

In  a  few  words  Ben  told  her  what  had  hap- 
pened, assuring  her  that  he  was  entirely  ignorant 
of  the  cause  of  the  sinking  of  the  boat. 

"  Mr.  Kichard  is  very  angry  just  now,  and  I 
think  you  had  better  keep  away  from  him  for  a 
time.  When  he  comes  to  himself,  he  and  I  have 
an  account  to  be  squared,"  said  Ben. 

"  Don't  be  angry  with  him.  He  will  be  sorry 
for  what  he  has  done." 

"  Bless  you,  Miss  Bertha,  I'm  not  angry.  I 
couldn't  get  angry  with  a  youngster  like  him  if 
I  tried,"  added  the  boatman,  with  a  benignant 
smile. 

"  I  hope  not." 

"  Mr.  Richard  is  a  good-hearted  boy,  and  before 
he  began  to  run  with  those  beggarly  rowdies  on 
the  other  side,  he  was  an  honest  and  well-meaning 
boy.  If  I  had  him  on  board  ship,  a  thousand 
miles  from  the  nearest  land,  I  could  make  a  man 
•of  him  in  three  days." 

With  this  encouraging  remark    Ben  hitched  up 


8o  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

his  trousers  again,  and  continued  his  walk  towards 
the  house.  Acting  upon  the  suggestion  of  the 
boatman,  Bertha  decided  to  let  her  brother  cool 
off  for  a  while,  before  she  went  near  him.  The 
sinking  of  the  boat  seemed  like  a  providential 
event  to  her,  since  it  must  prevent  the  race  she  so 
much  dreaded.  Yet  if  Richard  had  the  will  to 
associate  with  dissolute  persons,  even  this  acci- 
dent could  not  restrain  him. 

She  could  not  help  asking  herself,  as  she  sat 
waiting  for  Richard's  wrath  to  subside,  what  effect 
the  change  of  fortune  would  have  upon  him.  If 
it  saved  him  from  the  error  of  his  ways,  it  would 
be  a  blessing  instead  of  a  misfortune.  Her  brother 
was  proud,  and  gloried  in  the  wealth  and  social 
position  of  his  father.  The  rowdies  of  White- 
stone  had  discovered  hia  weak  point,  and  as  long1 
as  he  paid  for  the  oysters,  cigars, — and  liquors, 
for  aught  we  know, — thej  were  willing  to  flatter 
him,  and  to  yield  the  homage  he  so  much  coveted. 

Misfortune  had  swept  away  the  wealth  of  his 
father,  and  he  was  placed  on  a  level  with  those 
who  had  before  looked  up  to  him.  If  Mr.  Grant 
had  the  will,  he  had  no  longer  the  ability  to  fur- 
nish his  children  with  money,  as  he  had  done  be- 
fore. But  Richard  still  had  a  large  portion  of  the 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        81 

fifty  dollars  left,  and  he  was  not  disposed  to  con- 
sider any  of  these  questions.  They  did  not  even 
occur  to  him.  His  mind  was  all  absorbed  by  the 
race. 

When  she  thought  a  sufficient  time  had  elapsed 
for  Richard  to  recover  his  self-possession,  Bertha 
joined  him  on  the  wharf,  where  he  still  sat,  brood- 
ing over  the  ruin  of  his-  hopes.  He  noticed  Bertha 
as  she  approached,  but  his  interview  with  Ben 
had  evaporated  the  violence  of  his  temper,  and  he 
permitted  her  to  be  seated  by  his  side  without 
utering  a  word. 

"  Richard,  I  am  sorry  you  were  so  rude  to  Ben. 
He  is  an  old  man,  and  he  has  always  been  very 
kind  to  you,"  said  Bertha  in  the  gentlest  tones  of 
peace  and  affection. 

"  He  had  no  business  to  sink  my  boat  then," 
muttered  Richard. 

"  He  did  not  do  it." 

"  How  do  yo«  know  he  didm't?  " 

"  He  went  down  to  the  railroad  station  while  we 
were  at  breakfast,  and  did  not  return  till  after  you 
came  on  shore.  He  handed  roe  the  letter  as  I  was 
going  up  to  the  house,  and  then  went  for  his 
breakfast.  He  did  not  come  down  here  again  un- 
til after  you  did,  and  then  he  found  you  here.  It 
is  impossible  that  he  should  have  done  it." 


82  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  Then  you  must  have  done  it  yourself." 

"  No,  Richard ;  I  did  not.  You  have  had  your 
eyes  upon  me  ever  since  we  landed  from  the 
boat." 

(}'  You  knew  about  the  race,  and  wanted  to  pre- 
vent me  from  going  to  it." 

"  But  I  did  not  sink  your  boat ;  neither  do  I 
know  by  whom  it  was  done." 

Richard  knew  that  Bertha  always  spoke  the 
truth,  and  he  would  as  soon  have  doubted  his  own 
existence  as  doubted  her  word.  In  spite  of  his 
theory  that  she  had  done  it,  or  caused  it  to  be 
done,  to  defeat  his  plans,  he  was  compelled  to  be> 
lieve  what  she  said. 

"  I  don't  understand  it  then,"  said  he,  greatly 
perplexed.  "  You  were  the  last  person  on  board 
of  her." 

"  It  is  as  much  a  mystery  to  me  as  it  is  to  you ; 
but  I  hope  you  will  give  up  this  race." 

"  I  can't  do  any  thing  else  now.  I  put  the 
money  up,  and  I  suppose  I  have  lost  it." 

"  That  is  of  little  consequence." 

"  So  you  say ;  but  the  fellows  will  think  I  did 
it  to  avoid  the  race." 

"Let  them  think  so;  it  won't  injure  you." 

"  But  I  would  give  a  good  deal  to  know  how 
it  was  done." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        83 

"  Perhaps  some  boat  ran  into  her  while  she  lay 
at  her  moorings.  How  do  you  know  that  Tom 
Mullen  didn't  do  it?" 

"  He  wouldn't  do  such  a  thing." 

"  He  isn't  any  too  good  to  do  a  mean  action." 

"  If  I  thought  he  did  do  it ! "  said  Richard,  as 
he  jumped  from  the  seat,  apparently  convinced 
that  he  did  do  it.  "  Where  is  Ben  ?  I  wonder  if 
we  can't  raise  her,  and  have  the  race  yet?" 

"Do  you  think  Ben  would  help  you  now?" 
asked  Bertha,  reproachfully. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  what  I  said  to  him ;  but  I  was 
fully  convinced  that  he  had  done  the  mischief  by 
your  order.  I  will  beg  his  pardon ;  "  and  Richard 
ran  up  to  the  house,  and  made  his  peace  with 
Ben,  which  was  not  a  difficult  matter,  for  the  old 
boatman  was  almost  a  grandfather  to  all  three  of 
the  children. 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Richard,  I  forgive  you  with  all 
my  heart,  and  I  am  glad  of  the  chance  to  do  so, 
for  this  thing  made  me  feel  worse  than  it  did  you. 
Now  we  will  go  down  and  find  out  what  made 
the  Greyhound  go  to  the  bottom,"  said  Ben,  as  he 
led  the  way  to  the  wharf. 

Bertha  had  returned  to  the  house,  to  attend  to 
the  preparations  for  Fanny's  party,  or  possibly  she 


84  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

might  have  objected  to  any  investigations  in  the 
direction  indicated.  Richard  did  not  have  the 
courage  to  ask  Ben  to  help  raise  the  boat;  but 
when  they  reached  the  wharf,  the  old  man  went 
to  the  boat  house,  and  brought  out  sundry  coils  of 
rigging,  blocks,  and  other  gear.  Then,  with  the 
end  of  a  line  in  his  hand,  he  stepped  into  Bertha's 
boat  with  Richard,  and  sculled  off  to  the  place 
where  the  Greyhound  had  sunk. 

Fastening  the  line  to  the  painter  of  the  sunken 
boat,  he  sculled  back  again.  On  their  return  to 
the  wharf,  they  found  Noddy  there,  an  anxious 
observer  of  their  proceedings. 

"Noddy,  do  you  know  who  sunk  this  boat?" 
said  Richard,  who  happened  to  think  just  then 
that  the  little  savage  had  been  sitting  on  the  pier 
during  the  angry  interview  between  himself  and 
Bertha. 

"  I  expect  she  sunk  herself,"  replied  he,  with 
one  of  his  wild  leers. 

"  If  you  know  any  thing  about  it,  tell  me  at 
once,"  added  Richard,  sternly. 

"  I  don't  know  any  thing  about  it." 

"  Yes,  you  do,  you  little  villain ! "  continued 
Richard,  beginning  to  get  excited. 

"  Keep  cool,  Mr.  Richard,"  interposed  the  boat- 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       85 

man.  "  We  have  no  time  to  spare  in  that  manner. 
Of  course  the  boy  don't  know  any  thing  about  it. 
Here,  you  young  sculpin,  run  up  and  tell  John  to 
bring  the  two  plough  horses  down  here  as  quick 
as  he  can." 

Noddy,  whose  health  was  now  almost  restored, 
ran  off  towards  the  stables,  chuckling  as  he  went, 
as  if  he  was  glad  to  escape  any  further  questions. 

Ben  now  sent  Richard  up  into  a  large  tree 
which  grew  on  the  very  verge  of  the  water,  where, 
under  the  old  man's  directions,  he  fastened  a 
block,  and  passed  the  long  line  from  the  boat 
through  it.  Another  block  was  attached  near  the 
ground,  and  the  line  run  through  it.  By  this  time 
the  horses  had  come,  and  were  hitched  to  the  end 
of  the  rope. 

Richard  was  deeply  interested  in  the  operation, 
and  what  he  could  not  understand,  the  boatman 
explained  to  him.  The  rope  was  run  through  the 
block  in  the  tree  so  as  to  pull  the  boat  upwards 
from  the  bottom  of  the  river. 

"  Now  start  up  the  horses,  John,  very  slowly, 
and  stop  quick,  when  I  give  the  order,"  said  Ben, 
as  he  stepped  into  the  skiff,  and  paddled  out  to 
the  mast  of  the  Greyhound.  "Now,  go  ahead, 
John,"  shouted  he. 


86  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

The  horses  pulled,  and  in  a  few  moments  the 
sail  boat  was  safely  landed  on  the  grass  by  the 
side  of  the  water.  On  examination,  it  was  found 
that  the  plug  in  the  bottom  had  been  taken  out, 
and  greater  than  ever  was  the  mystery  in  regard  to 
the  author  of  the  mischief ;  but  Richard,  elated  at 
the  success  of  the  boatman's  labors,  had  ceased  to 
care  who  had  sunk  the  boat,  so  intent  was  he  upon 
the  prospects  of  the  race. 

The  boat  was  baled  out,  and  washed  out,  and 
half  an  hour  of  sunshine  restored  her  to  her 
former  condition. 

"  Ben,  I  am  ever  so  much  obliged  to  you  for 
what  you  have  done,  and  all  the  more  sorry  for 
what  happened  this  morning,"  said  Richard,  as 
the  boatman  was  leaving  the  Greyhound.  "  You 
have  saved  me  fom  disgrace  and  defeat." 

"Why  so?" 

"  I  am  going  to  run  the  race  with  Tom  Mullen 
this  morning." 

"  Are  you?  If  I  had  known  it,  I  wouldn't  have 
raised  your  boat  to  save  her  from  destruction," 
replied  Ben,  with  a  sad  look. 

"  Miss  Bertha  don't  want  him  to  go,"  added 
Noddy,  who  was  seated  in  the  bow  of  Ben's  boat. 
"  I  heard  her  teasing  him  to  give  it  up,  and  he 
wouldn't." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        87 

"  Shut  up,  you  young  monkey ! "  said  Ben. 
"  Boys  should  be  seen,  and  not  heard." 

The  old  boatman  used  all  the  powers  of  his  rude 
eloquence  to  dissuade  Richard  from  going;  but 
the  latter  prated  about  his  faith  and  his  honor, 
and  declared  that  he  must  go ;  and  he  did  go. 

"  Poor  boy !  "  sighed  Ben.  "  He  is  a  smart, 
likely,  good-hearted  fellow,  and  it  is  a  pity  that  he 
should  go  to  ruin." 

"  Miss  Bertha  cried  as  though  her  heart  would 
break,  trying  to  make  him  give  up  the  race.  Some- 
thing awful  has  happened  to  Mr.  Grant,  too," 
added  Noddy.  "  I  heard  Miss  Bertha  say  he  had 
failed,  if  you  know  what  that  means — I  don't." 

"  Failed !  "  gasped  old  Ben. 

"  Yes,  sir :  but  Richard  would  go,  and  that's 
the  reason  why  I  pulled  the  plug  out,  and  sunk 
the  boat,"  continued  Noddy,  innocently. 


88  Rich  and  Humble,  or 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IN  WHICH  BERTHA  READS  THE  NEWSPAPER,  AND 
FAINTS  AWAY. 

NODDY  NEWMAN'S  confession  promised  to  get 
him  into  trouble  with  Richard,  if  he  should  dis- 
cover that  he  was  the  cause  of  the  mischief.  Ben, 
the  old  boatman,  fully  sympathized  with  the  young 
savage  in  what  he  had  done;  for  when  the  latter 
related  the  conversation  between  Bertha  and  her 
brother,  to  which  he  had  listened,  and  told  how 
badly  he  felt  when  Mr.  Richard  scolded  at  her, 
and  declared  that  he  would  go  to  the  race,  his 
indignation  was  as  deeply  roused  as  that  of  the 
listener  had  been,  and  he  decided  that  it  would 
be  better  for  all  parties  if  the  truth  were  con- 
cealed. 

Richard  had  gone  to  the  race,  and  there  was 
nothing  more  that  could  be  done  to  save  him 
from  the  consequences  of  his  own  folly  and  way- 
wardness. Noddy  was  well  satisfied  with  what  he 
had  done,  especially  after  the  approval  of  Ben. 
All  he  lived  for  was  to  please  Miss  Bertha,  and 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       89 

if  he  could  do  any  thing  to  carry  out  her  views, 
he  was  not  very  particular  to  avoid  displeasing 
any  body  else.  If  she  wished  to  prevent  Richard 
from  going  to  the  race,  he  was  ready  to  sink  the 
boat,  or  even  to  burn  and  destroy  it.  What  the 
owner  of  her  liked  or  disliked  was  a  matter  of  no 
consequence  to  him. 

Noddy's  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  of  truth  and 
justice,  were  not  very  clearly  defined.  He  had  no 
particular  devotion  to  the  truth  as  such,  and  no 
particular  love  of  justice  for  its  own  sake.  He 
did  not  remain  at  Woodville  because  he  liked  the 
place,  after  he  had  strength  enough  to  return  to 
his  former  vagabond  life,  but  because  Bertha  was 
there.  He  was  willing  to  do  right,  so  far  as  he 
understood  it,  because  she  desired  him  to  do  so. 
It  must  be  confessed  that  principle  had  not  yet 
been  developed  in  his  character.  His  only  law 
was  to  do  what  his  fair  and  loving  mistress  wished 
him  to  do,  and  he  had  no  higher  idea  of  duty 
than  this.  He  cared  for  no  one,  was  afraid  of  no 
one.  Her  friends  were  his  friends,  and  if  she  had 
had  any  foes,  they  would  have  been  his  foes. 

Ben  sat  on  the  wharf,  watching  the  Greyhound 
as  she  swept  forward  on  her  course.  He  was  sad 
and  dull;  for  the  information  which  Noddy  had 


9o  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

given  him  was  full  of  grief  to  the  old  servant  of 
the  family.  As  he  reflected  upon  the  import  of  the 
fearful  words  which  expressed  the  misfortune  of 
Mr.  Grant,  the  tears  gathered  on  his  brown  cheek. 

"  What  ails  you,  Ben  ?  "  asked  Noddy,  who  was 
lying  upon  the  wharf,  gazing  into  the  face  of  the 
boatman. 

"What  ails  me?  You  young  sculpin,  are  you 
here?  I  thought  you  had  gone,"  replied  Ben, 
roughly,  as  he  wiped  away  the  tears. 

"  You  are  crying !  " 

"Crying?  Nonsense!  Did  you  ever  see  an  old 
Bailor  cry?" 

"  I  never  did  before." 

"  I  am  not  crying,  you  little  lubber !  I  am  get- 
ting old,  and  my  eyes  are  weak.  The  sun  makes 
them  water  a  litle." 

"  Tell  me  what  it  is  about,  Ben,  and  perhaps  I 
will  cry  too,"  added  Noddy,  suddenly  dropping  his 
chin,  and  looking  as  gloomy  as  though  he  had  lost 
his  best  friend. 

"  Run  away,  boy — up  to  the  house.  Miss  Ber- 
tha wants  you  to  help  her  about  the  party.  You 
must  turn  somersets,  stand  on  your  head,  and  cut 
all  the  capers  you  can  this  afternoon,  to  please  the 
children  who  will  come  to  the  party,  for  I  think  it 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       91 

will  be  the  last  party  the  young  folks  will  ever 
have  at  Woodville.  Go  and  limber  up  your  back, 
boy." 

li  I  will  do  any  thing  Miss  Bertha  wants  me  to 
do,  if  it  is  to  swallow  my  own  head,  or  turn  in- 
side out,"  replied  Noddy,  as  he  walked  away,  with 
the  feeling  that  there  was  a  chance  for  him  to  do 
something  to  please  his  young  mistress. 

On  the  way  up  to  the  house,  he  stopped  in  the 
grove  to  practise  a  few  gymnastic  feats,  for  he  was 
not  certain  whether  his  ribs  were  yet  in  condition 
to  enable  him  to  entertain  a  party  of  young  ladies. 
But  his  bones  were  all  right,  and  his  gyrations 
would  have  been  creditable  to  a  travelling  circus 
company.  When  he  had  satisfied  himself  that  he 
was  in  condition  to  perform,  he  walked  leisurely 
up  to  the  house  to  report  to  Bertha. 

She  did  not  give  him  much  encouragement  that 
his  entertainment  would  be  an  acceptable  one  to 
the  delicate  young  ladies  who  were  to  come  from 
the  homes  of  wealth  and  taste  in  the  vicinity ;  but 
she  was  pleased  with  his  devotion — with  his  efforts 
to  do  something  for  the  amusement  of  the  party. 
During  the  rest  of  the  forenoon  she  kept  him  busy 
in  preparing  the  rooms  for  the  reception  of  the 
company;  and  Noddy  was  never  so  well  satisfied 


92  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

as  when  he  felt  that  he  was  doing  something  to 
assist  or  amuse  Bertha. 

At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  every  thing  was 
ready  for  the  party.  Miss  Fanny  was  dressed  like 
a  fairy  queen;  Bertha,  more  plainly  robed,  was 
not  less  fascinating;  and  even  Noddy  Newman 
was  so  disguised  by  his  new  clothes,  that  he  looked 
very  much  like  a  little  gentleman.  Two  o'clock 
came,  and  half  past  two,  and  three;  but  not  a 
single  young  lady  who  had  been  invited  to  the 
party,  made  her  appearance. 

Fanny  fretted,  pouted,  and  stormed  at  this  want 
of  punctuality,  and  even  Bertha  did  not  know 
what  to  make  of  it.  But  when  four  o'clock  came, 
and  still  not  a  single  guest  appeared,  Fanny  gave 
up  to  despair,  and  Bertha  was  as  puzzled  as 
though  she  had  been  solving  problems  in  Euclid. 
Five  o'clock,  and  six  o'clock,  came,  and  still  the 
great  parlor  of  Woodville,  with  all  its  flowers  and 
draperies,  was  "  like  some  banquet  hall  deserted." 
Not  a  single  guest  came  to  the  purty  of  Miss 
Fanny,  and  the  rich  feast  that  decked  the  table  in 
the  great  dining  room  was  "  wasting  its  sweet- 
ness on  the  desert  air." 

Great  were  the  astonishment  and  mortification 
of  all  in  the  house.  Fanny  had  gone  to  her 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.         93 

chamber,  thrown  off  her  fine  clothes,  and  was 
weeping  great  tears  of  grief  and  vexation.  The 
steward  and  the  housekeeper  were  vainly  trying 
to  explain  the  strange  circumstance.  It  was  very 
remarkable. 

"  It  is  very  singular,"  said  Mrs.  Green,  "  and 
such  a  slight  was  never  put  upon  this  family  be- 
fore." 

"  I  can't  understand  it,"  added  the  steward. 

"  Neither  can  I." 

"  I  can,"  said  Noddy,  thrusting  his  hands  down 
to  the  bottom  of  the  pockets  in  his  new  pants. 

"You!  what  do  you  know  about  it?"  said  the 
steward. 

"  I  think  there  must  have  been  some  mistake  in 
the  invitations,"  continued  the  housekeeper. 

"  I  tell  you,  I  know  all  about  it,"  said  Noddy. 

"What  do  you  know?" 

"  Mr.  Grant  has  failed,  and  the  people  round 
here  don't  want  to  have  any  thing  more  to  do  with 
him." 

Neither  the  steward  nor  the  housekeeper  had 
heard  any  thing  of  this  kind  before,  and  they  were 
incredulous ;  but  Bertha,  to  whom  Mrs.  Green  car- 
ried this  piece  of  information,  confirmed  it. 

"  That  is  no  reason  why  people  should  keep 


94  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

their  children  from  coming  to  Fanny's  party.  Two 
or  three  of  our  neighbors  have  failed,  and  people 
sympathized  with  them,  instead  of  insulting  them, 
in  their  misfortune,"  said  Bertha. 

The  failure  of  Mr.  Grant  certainly  was  not 
enough  to  explain  the  singular  unanimity  with 
which  the  guests  of  the  party  stayed  away.  The 
steward  and  the  housekeeper  were  more  indignant 
than  before,  and  declared  that  they  lived  in  the 
midst  of  the  heathen.  The  cakes  and  the  creams, 
the  fruits  and  the  candies,  for  the  feast,  were  put 
away,  the  parlor  was  restored  to  its  wonted  con- 
dition; but  grief,  chagrin,  and  indignation  per- 
vaded every  hall  and  apartment  at  Woodville,  for 
the  slight  that  had  been  put  upon  the  family. 

The  hour  for  the  return  of  Mr.  Grant  had  ar- 
rived, and  a  man  had  been  sent  down  to  the  rail- 
road station  to  drive  him  up,  as  usual ;  for  Bertha 
had  a  hope  that  he  might  come  that  night,  in 
spite  of  what  he  had  said  in  his  note.  But  the 
man  returned  alone,  bringing  the  mail  and  the 
city  newspapers. 

As  there  was  no  letter  from  her  father,  Bertha 
took  up  one  of  the  papers.  The  excitement  of  the 
party  had  passed  away,  and  the  all-engrossing 
theme  of  her  father's  misfortune  once  more  began 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.         95 

to  prey  upon  her  mind.  Richard  had  not  yet 
returned  from  the  race,  and  she  had  a  sad  thought 
for  him.  Fanny  and  the  housekeeper  were  discuss- 
ing the  party  still,  and  Bertha  tried  to  read  the 
newspaper.  She  ran  her  eyes  up  and  down  the 
columns,  in  search  of  any  item  or  article  that 
might  interest  her. 

Suddenly  her  gaze  was  fixed  upon  a  paragraph, 
which  accidentally  caught  her  eye.  It  chained  her 
attention,  while  her  cheeks  paled,  her  eyes  dilated, 
and  her  lips  quivered.  She  read  it  through,  as 
though  some  terrible  fascination  attracted  her  to 
the  words;  then  the  paper  dropped  from  her 
hands,  a  slight  groan  escaped  her  pallid  lips,  and 
she  dropped  senseless  from  her  chair  upon  the 
floor. 

Mrs.  Green,  alarmed  at  her  fall,  hastened  to  her 
assistance,  and  with  a  strong  arm  placed  her  upon 
a  sofa.  She  saw  that  Bertha  had  only  fainted, 
and  immediately  applied  herself  with  all  zeal  to 
her  restoration. 

"What  ails  her?"  asked  Fanny,  who  was 
greatly  terrified  by  the  death-like  appearance  of 
her  sister. 

"She  has  only  fainted;  she  will  get  over  it  in 
a  few  minutes,"  replied  Mrs.  Green,  as  she  dashed 
a  tumbler  of  ice  water  in  the  patient's  face. 


96  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  What  made  her  faint?  " 

"  Poor  child !  She  is  all  worn  out.  She  didn't 
sleep  any  last  night,  worrying  because  your  father 
didn't  come  home;  and  I  suppose  this  affair  of 
the  party  has  vexed  and  tormented  her,  as  it  has 
all  the  rest  of  us." 

"  It  is  enough  to  make  any  one  faint.  I  wonder 
I  don't  faint,"  added  Miss  Fanny,  who,  no  doubt, 
thought  she  had  more  sorrows,  just  then,  than  all 
the  rest  of  the  world  put  together. 

Mrs.  Green  labored  diligently  and  skilfully  for 
the  restoration  of  Bertha;  and  in  a  very  short 
time  the  poor  girl  opened  her  eyes,  nnd  gazed 
languidly  around  the  room. 

"  My  poor  father ! "  sighed  she ;  and  she  shud- 
dered so  that  her  whole  frame  shook  with  the 
paroxysm,  as  she  uttered  the  words. 

"  Come,  dear,  don't  take  it  so  sorely  to  heart ; 
your  father  will  come  back  again." 

"  O  Mrs.  Green !  "  sobbed  Bertha,  as  she  looked 
at  the  housekeeper,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
"  What  will  become  of  me?  n 

"  Don't  take  on  so,  Bertha.  You  have  no  reason 
to  feel  so  badly,  even  if  yotir  father  has  failed." 

"  Failed !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Fanny,  to  whom  this 
Intelligence  now  came  for  the  first  time. 


The  Mission   of  Bertha  Grant.       97 

To  the  proud  little  miss  this  was  the  most  terri- 
ble thing  that  could  happen,  and  Mrs.  Green  be- 
gan to  fear  that  she  should  have  another  patient 
on  her  hands ;  for  Fanny  began  to  cry  and  rave  as 
though  she  was  to  be  the  only  sufferer  by  her 
father's  misfortune. 

"  Come,  children,  you  will  make  yourselves  sick, 
if  you  take  on  in  this  way.  It  may  not  be  half 
as  bad  as  you  think  it  is." 

"  My  poor  father !  "  sighed  Bertha. 

"  No  more  parties,  no  more  fine  dresses ;  the 
horses  and  carriages  must  be  sold,  and  all  the 
servants  discharged ! "  added  Fanny,  who  though 
only  eleven  years  of  age,  knew  what  a  failure 
meant,  and  had  read  some  novels  from  which 
she  had  obtained  the  romantic  idea  of  bankruptcy. 

"What  will  become  of  him?  "  said  Bertha. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  added  Fanny.  "No  one 
thinks  any  thing  of  poor  people." 

"  Come,  Bertha,  you  had  better  go  up  to  your 
chamber  and  lie  down.  You  are  all  beat  out  with 
this  party,  and  last  night,"  suggested  Mrs.  Green. 

"Has  Bichard  come  home?" 

"  He  has  not." 

"  I  wish  he  would  come,  Mrs.  Green.  I  must  go 
to  the  city  by  the  first  train  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." 


98  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"By  the  first  train?    Why!  what  for?" 

"  I  must  see  father,"  sighed  she. 

"  You  must  be  calm,  Bertha.  This  violent  tak- 
ing on  don't  seem  like  you." 

"  You  don't  understand  it,  Mrs.  Green,"  added 
Bertha,  looking  sadly  at  the  housekeeper. 

"  O,  yes,  I  do ;  I  have  known  a  hundred  people 
to  fail,  and  some  of  them  did  not  sell  a  single 
horse,  or  discharge  a  single  servant,  but  lived  on 
just  the  same  as  they  did  before  they  failed.  It 
isn't  such  a  terrible  thing,  after  all." 

"  You  don't  understand  it,"  groaned  Bertha,  her 
eyes  filling  with  tears  again. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  do.  Some  folks  fail  on  purpose, 
and  make  ever  so  much  money  by  it.  Don't  cry 
about  it." 

"  It  is  nothing  of  that  kind  that  makes  me 
feel  so." 

"  What  in  the  world  is  it,  then  ?  "  asked  the 
housekeeper,  astonished  and  alarmed  by  the  reply. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you.  Do  not  ask  me.  You  will 
know  too  soon.  But  I  will  try  to  be  calm,  and 
not  disturb  you  and  others  by  my  conduct." 

"  Bless  you,  child !  You  don't  disturb  me,  but 
I  feel  as  bad  as  you  do.  I  hope  nothing  bad  has 
happened." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.        99 

"  I  cannot  answer  you,"  replied  Bertha,  as  she 
shuddered  at  the  thought  of  the  terrible  thing  she 
had  read  in  the  newspaper.  "  There,  I  will  not 
cry  any  more." 

She  rose  from  the  sofa,  and  summoned  all  her 
strength  to  her  aid;  she  tried  to  recover  her 
wonted  self-possession,  but  the  blow  she  had  re- 
ceived was  too  heavy  and  too  awful  to  be  easily 
resisted.  She  picked  up  the  newspaper  from  the 
floor,  and  put  it  in  her  pocket,  that  none  of  the 
family  might  read  the  terrible  paragraph  which 
had  taken  away  her  reason  for  the  time. 

In  her  own  bosom  she  locked  up  the  fearful 
truth.  She  had  no  one  to  whom  she  dared  to  im- 
part it.  The  reason  why  none  of  the  children  had 
come  to  the  party  was  painfully  apparent  to  her. 
The  neighbors  had  read  the  morning  papers,  had 
read  that  stunning  paragraph,  and  Woodville  was 
no  place  for  their  children  to  visit  after  such  a 
revelation. 

Poor  Bertha  tried  to  eat  her  supper,  but  she 
could  not.  The  terrible  secret  was  burning  at  her 
heart.  She  dared  not  utter  it,  lest  the  house- 
keeper and  the  steward,  and  even  old  Ben,  should 
desert  the  family,  as  the  neighbors  had  done.  But 
Kichard  was  her  brother,  and  she  must  tell  him. 


ioo  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

He  was  older  than  she  was,  and  such  a  shock  as 
this  would  electrify  him. 

The  secret  seemed  to  gnaw  at  her  soul,  and  she 
felt  the  need  of  a  friend  and  comforter,  and  Rich- 
ard was  the  only  one  to  whom  she  could  muster 
courage  to  reveal  it.  After  rising  from  the  supper 
table,  where  she  had  vainly  tried  to  eat,  she  has- 
tened down  to  the  wharf  to  meet  her  brother  on 
his  return.  As  she  approached  the  pier,  she  saw 
the  Greyhound  coming  around  the  island.  In  a 
few  moments  it  was  within  hail  of  the  wharf; 
when  Bertha  discovered,  with  intense  alarm,  that 
Richard  was  not  at  the  helm. 

The  boat  was  steered  by  Tom  Mullen;  but  on 
its  nearer  approach,  the  poor  girl  perceived  the 
form  of  her  brother  lying  in  the  bottom.  She  ut- 
tered a  scream  of  terror,  for  he  appeared  to  be 
dead. 

"  Don't  be  frightened,  miss,"  said  Tom  Mullen, 
as  he  brought  the  boat  alongside  the  wharf. 

"  Is  he  dead  ?  "  gasped  Bertha. 

"  O,  no,  Miss  Grant.  Nothing  of  the  kind.  He 
took  one  glass  more  than  he  could  carry,  and  it 
threw  him,"  laughed  Tom. 

Richard  was  intoxicated!  It  was  scarcely  bet- 
ter than  dead. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      101 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

IN  WHICH   BERTHA   MEETS  THE  NEW  OWNER  OF 
WOODVILLE. 

BERTHA  was  shocked  and  almost  paralyzed  when 
she  realized  the  condition  of  her  brother.  It  was 
dreadful  to  see  a  mere  boy,  only  fifteen  years  of 
age,  in  a  state  of  beastly  intoxication,  and  that 
boy  her  only  brother,  he  to  whom  she  had  looked 
for  counsel  and  encouragement  in  this  hour  of  bit- 
ter trial.  All  her  hopes  seemed  to  be  dissipated 
by  this  greatest  calamity,  and  despair  to  be  her 
only  resort. 

Tom  Mullen's  coarseness — for  he  alluded  to  the 
condition  of  Richard  as  though  it  were  a  matter 
of  no  consequence — grated  harshly  upon  her  feel- 
ings, and  in  a  low  tone  she  begged  Ben,  who  had 
now  come  to  her  assistance,  to  send  him  off.  The 
boatman  and  Tom  bore  Richard  to  the  seat  upon 
the  pier,  and  then  the  former  thanked  the  rowdy 
for  what  he  had  done  for  Mr.  Richard,  and  pro- 
posed to  take  him  back  to  Whitestone  in  one  of 
the  row  boats.  Tom  assented  to  the  arrangement, 


IO2  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

and  much  to  the  relief  of  Bertha,  he  bade  her 
good  night,  and  stepped  into  the  boat,  leaving  her 
alone  with  the  helpless  boy. 

"  Too  bad,"  sighed  Ben.  "  Too  bad  for  a  fine 
boy,  like  Mr.  Richard,  to  come  home  in  such  a 
situation  as  that." 

"  That's  a  fact,  Ben.  I  told  him  he  had  got 
enough,  and  advised  him  not  to  take  the  last  glass. 
I  did  all  I  could  to  keep  him  straight;  so  it  is 
not  my  fault  that  he  comes  home  drunk." 

"  If  he  had  never  seen  you  and  the  rest  of  the 
boys  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  he  might  have 
been  a  decent  boy." 

"  That  is  talking  pretty  close  to  the  point,"  re- 
plied Tom  Mullen,  sourly. 

"  Perhaps  it  is.  Mr.  Richard  is  a  smart  boy 
and  worth  a  dozen  of  the  rowdies  he  goes  with." 

"  May  be  he  is ;  but  if  he  don't  want  my  com- 
pany, I  am  sure  I  don't  want  his.  I  can  get 
along  as  well  without  him  as  he  can  without  me. 
He  wanted  to  race  boats  with  me,  and  he  did,  and 
lost  the  race.  I  am  five  dollars  better  off  for  the 
affair  than  before,  it  is  true;  but  I  paid  for  all 
the  liquor  he  drank." 

"  Don't  say  any  more,  Tom  Mullen,  or  you  will 
tempt  me  to  throw  you  into  the  river." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      103 

"But  don't  you  see  I  am  not  to  blame?'' 

"  Silence !  You  have  led  this  poor  boy  into  all 
sorts  of  iniquity,  and  if  I  thought  you  knew  any 
better,  I  would  take  it  out  of  your  bones." 

Tom  Mullen  was  a  boy  of  seventeen.  His  feel- 
ings were  deeply  injured  by  the  plain  speech  of 
the  old  boatman,  if  a  person  of  his  stamp  had  feel- 
ings, and  he  was  disposed  to  resent  his  home 
thrusts;  but  he  knew  old  Ben  well  enough  not  to 
atempt  any  thing  of  the  kind  at  present,  and  laid 
up  his  revenge  for  a  more  convenient  season. 

Ben  landed  his  dissolute  passenger  on  the  pier 
at  Whitestone,  and  hastened  back  to  comfort  Ber- 
tha, and  attend  to  the  besotted  youth.  On  his 
return  he  found  the  poor  girl  weeping  over  her 
brother. 

"  This  is  terrible,  Ben !  "  sobbed  she.  "  To  think 
that  Kichard  should  ever  come  to  this!" 

"  It's  awful  to  see  a  man  drunk,  and  I  think 
the  angels  must  weep  to  see  a  boy  in  such  a 
state." 

"What  shall  we  do?  I  don't  want  to  expose 
fcim  to  all  the  servants  in  the  house." 

"  Leave  him  to  me,  Miss  Bertha.  I  will  take 
good  care  of  him,  and  not  a  soul  shall  see  him  till 
he  is  all  right  again.  Go  up  to  the  house;  go  to 
bed,  and  sleep  as  though  nothing  had  happened." 


IO4  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

.»• 

"  Thank  you,  Ben :  you  are  very  kind  to  save 
my  feelings,  and  Richard's,  too,  for  he  will  hide 
his  head  with  shame  when  he  realizes  what  he  has 
done." 

"  I  hope  he  will ;  and  bad  as  this  thing  is,  it 
may  be  all  for  the  best.  It  may  be  the  very  thing 
he  needs  to  open  his  eyes  and  reform  his  life." 

Bertha  tried  to  hope  that  what  the  old  man  said 
might  prove  true ;  but  just  then  there  seemed  to  be 
no  stability  in  any  thing  human,  and  she  could 
not  help  feeling  that  Richard  was  ruined  forever 
— that  his  life  would  be  that  of  the  miserable  sot, 
and  end  in  the  drunkard's  grave.  So  many  ter- 
rible events  had  suddenly  been  hurled  upon  her, 
that  she  had  begun  to  give  way  to  the  sense  of 
gloom  and  despondency  which  the  dark  clouds  of 
human  ill  often  induce. 

With  a  repeated  charge  to  Ben  to  see  that  Rich- 
ard was  well  cared  for,  she  bade  him  good  night, 
and  slowly  walked  up  towards  the  house.  She 
went  to  her  chamber,  and  her  prayers  that  night 
were  longer  and  more  earnest  than  usual;  but 
they  gave  her  hope  and  strength,  for  "earth  has 
no  sorrow  which  Heaven  cannot  heal."  Exhausted 
by  her  physical  exertions,  as  well  as  by  her 
mental  struggles,  she  soon  wept  herself  to  sleep. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      105 

As  soon  as  Bertha  left  the  wharf,  the  boatman 
at  once  applied  himself  to  the  redeeming  of  his 
promise.  Lifting  the  inebriated  boy  in  his  arms, 
he  carried  him  to  a  shallow  place  by  the  bank  of 
the  river,  and  having  removed  his  clothing,  he 
commenced  a  vigorous  course  of  hydropathic 
treatment,  which  partially  brought  the  patient  to 
his  senses.  Richard  thought  it  was  rather  rough, 
when  he  had  so  far  recovered  from  his  stupor  as  to 
be  able  to  comprehend  his  situation,  and  he  begged 
the  doctor  to  desist;  but  Ben  persevered  till  he 
was  satisfied  he  had  done  his  work  thoroughly. 
He  then  carefully  rubbed  him  dry,  and  led  him 
back  to  the  boat  house,  where  he  made  a  bed  for 
him  of  sails  and  boat  cushions.  The  patient  was 
still  too  stupid  to  offer  any  objection,  and  dropped 
asleep  almost  as  soon  as  he  touched  his  bed.  Ben 
slept  by  his  side,  faithful  to  the  charge  given  him 
by  his  young  mistress. 

The  next  morning,  Richard  had  entirely  re- 
covered from  his  debauch,  with  the  exception  of  a 
severe  headache.  The  vigorous  treatment  of  the 
old  boatman  had,  no  doubt,  been  highly  beneficial. 
At  all  events,  he  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  be 
heartily  ashamed  of  himself;  for  he  realized  that 
he  had  been  intoxicated,  and  had  a  faint  recol- 


io6  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

lection  of  the  energetic  operations  of  Ben.  But 
I  am  sorry  to  add  that  his  pride  was  more  deeply 
wounded  than  his  principle.  He  began  to  think 
of  what  people  would  say,  rather  than  of  the 
wrong  he  had  done.  The  feeling  that  he  had  dis- 
graced himself  and  his  family,  rather  than  sinned 
against  God  and  himself,  took  possession  of  his 
mind. 

He  was  soon  called  to  a  realizing  sense  of  his 
conduct  by  the  vigorous  scolding  which  Ben  gave 
him.  The  old  man  was  as  faithful  in  his  admoni- 
tion as  though  the  boy  had  been  his  own  son; 
and  Richard's  shame  and  mortification  did  not 
permit  him  to  utter  a  word  in  his  own  defence. 
While  he  was  undergoing  this  severe  lecture,  Ber- 
tha came  down  to  inquire  for  his  health.  The 
boatman  brought  his  address  to  an  abrupt  conclu- 
sion, and  told  Bertha  what  he  had  done,  and  that 
the  patient  was  in  as  good  condition  as  could  be 
expected  after  such  a  time. 

"  Come  up  to  the  house  with  me,  Richard,"  said 
Bertha ;  "  I  want  to  talk  with  you." 

"  I  have  had  talk  enough,  and  I  don't  think 
any  more  would  do  me  any  good,"  replied  Rich- 
ard ;  but  the  remonstrance  was  very  tame  for  him. 

"  I  will  not  reproach  you  for  what  you  have 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      107 

done,  Dick.  I  will  leave  that  to  your  own  con- 
science. I  have  something  else  to  say  to  you." 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  up  to  the  house,  and  be 
laughed  at  by  all  the  servants.  I  feel  more  like 
clearing  out  somewhere,  and  never  seeing  any 
body  that  knows  me  again." 

"  No  one  at  the  house  knows  any  thing  about 
your  conduct." 

Richard  thought  it  was  very  considerate  on  the 
part  of  Ben  and  his  sister  to  conceal  his  infirmity 
from  others,  and  he  felt  grateful  to  them  for  spar- 
ing his  pride.  He  walked  up  to  the  house  with 
Bertha,  and  after  he  had  changed  his  clothes  and 
eaten  his  breakfast,  they  met  again  in  the  library. 

Just  before  breakfast,  Mrs.  Green  had  told  him 
about  the  failure  of  Fanny's  party,  and  the  faint- 
ing of  Bertha.  He  was  indignant  at  the  slight 
upon  the  family,  and  pitied  poor  Bertha,  who  had 
taken  it  so  sorely  to  heart.  He  reproached  him- 
self more  than  ever  for  his  own  conduct,  and  de- 
termined to  make  what  reparation  he  could  for  it. 

"  I  did  not  think  our  neighbors  were  so  heart- 
less before,"  said  Richard,  as  he  entered  the 
library  where  Bertha  was  waiting  for  him.  "  It 
makes  my  blood  boil  to  think  of  it." 

"  I  am  not  at  all  surprised  at  their  conduct. 


io8  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

Perhaps  they  kept  their  children  at  home  from  the 
best  of  motives,  for  they  probably  knew  more  of 
our  affairs  than  we  did  ourselves,"  replied  Bertha, 
as  she  wiped  away  the  tears  from  her  eyes,  which 
would  come  in  spite  of  all  her  efforts  to  repress 
them. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Bertha  ?  " 

"  Father  is  utterly  ruined." 

"  Well,  he  has  failed,  I  suppose ;  but  I " 

"  O,  worse  than  that ;  as  much  worse  than  that 
as  can  be !  "  exclaimed  Bertha. 

"  Why,  what  has  happened  ?  You  had  a  letter 
from  him  yesterday,  saying  that  he  was  alive  and 
well." 

"  I  did;  but  he  did  not  tell  us  the  whole  truth." 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean,  Bertha  ?  What  can 
have  happened  to  him  ?  " 

"  He  is  not  only  ruined,  but  he  is  in  prison." 

"  In  prison ! "  exclaimed  Richard,  shocked  at 
these  words. 

"  In  the  Tombs,"  replied  she,  covering  her  face 
with  her  hands.  "  I  read  it  in  the  newspaper  last 
night." 

"  What  has  he  done  ?  "  demanded  Richard,  with 
quivering  lip. 

"  He  was  arrested  on  the  charge  of  fraud — the 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      109 

paper  says  stupendous  frauds  in  his  business.  I 
do  not  understand  it,  but  I  am  sure,  very  sure, 
that  father  has  not  done  any  thing  wrong.  I 
know  he  would  not  do  it." 

"  Certainly  not,"  added  Richard,  biting  his  lip 
till  the  blood  ran. 

"  The  newspaper  says  that  he  was  arrested  in 
an  attempt  to  leave  the  country,  which  rendered 
his  guilt  all  the  more  apparent;  but  I  do  not  be- 
lieve it." 

"  Nor  I,"  added  Richard. 

"  Here  is  the  paper ;  you  can  read  the  para- 
graph, and  perhaps  you  will  understand  it  better 
than  I  do,"  said  Bertha,  as  she  took  the  paper 
from  her  pocket. 

Richard  read  the  article,  and  then  read  it  again ; 
but  the  complicated  transactions  which  it  de- 
scribed were  as  much  beyond  his  comprehension  as 
they  had  been  beyond  his  sister's.  The  failure  of 
an  extensive  English  banking  house  had  been  the 
beginning  of  Mr.  Grant's  misfortunes,  and  the 
alleged  frauds  were  committed  in  attempting  to 
sustain  himself  against  the  pressure  caused  by 
being  deprived  of  his  foreign  resources.  But  my 
young  readers  would  be  as  much  in  the  dark  as 
Richard  and  Bertha,  if  I  should  attempt  to  explain 


no  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

the  situation  of  Mr.  Grant's  affairs.  It  is  enough 
to  say  that  all  the  apparent  wealth  of  the  broker, 
immense  as  it  had  appeared  to  himself  and  to  his 
neighbors,  had  suddenly  been  swept  away,  and 
that  he  was  thrown  into  prison  on  the  charge  of 
fraud. 

Since  the  preceding  evening,  Bertha  had  borne 
this  heavy  load  upon  her  heart,  made  ten  times 
heavier  by  the  misconduct  of  her  brother.  The 
consciousness  that  she  could  do  nothing  to  aid  her 
father,  or  even  to  comfort  him,  was  not  the  least 
of  her  troubles.  Mr.  Grant  had  concealed  from 
his  children  the  fact  of  his  arrest  and  imprison- 
ment, and  she  had  given  up  her  purpose  to  visit 
him  in  his  prison,  for  it  could  only  add  to  his 
grief,  since  he  now  supposed  her  to  be  ignorant  of 
his  real  condition. 

Among  other  items  in  the  paragraph,  the  news- 
paper said  that  Mr.  Grant  had  secured  his  princi- 
pal and  most  pressing  creditor  by  making  over  to 
him  his  splendid  estate  on  the  Hudson,  with  all 
its  furniture,  appointments,  boats,  library ;  indeed, 
every  thing  there  was  at  Woodville.  This  state- 
ment was  even  more  startling  to  Richard  than  the 
fact  of  his  father's  arrest.  All  the  worldly  pos- 
sessions of  his  father  had  passed  away,  almost  in 


-  The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant,     in 

the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  When  he  heard  of  the 
failure,  he  recalled  the  case  of  one  of  the  neigh- 
bors, who,  though  a  bankrupt,  had  retained  his 
house  and  lands,  and  he  had  expected  that  his 
father  would  do  the  same.  But  now  Woodville 
was  gone:  even  the  furniture  in  the  house,  the 
boats  and  the  horses,  all  were  to  be  given  up,  and 
the  proud  youth  looked  with  disgust  and  contempt 
upon  the  poor  cottage,  or  other  humble  abode, 
which  his  fancy  pictured  as  the  future  residence 
of  the  family. 

He  was  selfish,  grossly  selfish,  in  his  pride  and 
vanity,  and  he  almost  forgot  the  situation  of  his 
father  in  his  mourning  over  the  loss  of  the  lux- 
uries to  which  he  had  always  been  accustomed. 
Henceforth  he  was  to  be  no  better  than  the  young 
men  of  Whitestone,  who  had  regarded  him  with 
envy  and  admiration. 

While  he  and  Bertha  were  considering,  from 
widely  different  points  of  view,  the  sad  misfor- 
tune which  had  overtaken  them,  the  man  to  whom 
Mr.  Grant  had  transferred  Woodville  arrived  to 
take  possession  of  his  property.  As  he  was  a 
money  lender,  and  had  no  other  God  but  his 
wealth,  he  was  a  hard  man,  rude  and  rough. 
Woodville  would  not  pay  him  for  the  money  he 


H2  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

had  lent  its  late  owner,  and  obtaining  possession 
of  the  place  did  not  appease  the  anger  which  the 
failure  of  Mr.  Grant  had  occasioned. 

He  was  duly  armed  with  all  the  necessary 
papers  to  make  his  work  legal;  and  he  had  no 
regard  for  the  feelings  of  the  children  or  the  serv- 
ants. He  walked  all  over  the  house  and  grounds, 
with  his  followers,  and  gave  orders  to  the  servants 
for  the  disposal  of  the  boats  and  the  horses. 

"Can  we  remain  here?"  asked  Bertha,  in 
timid  and  trembling  tones,  as  the  new  owner,  for 
the  third  time,  rudely  entered  the  library,  where 
Bertha  and  Richard  were  Btill  seated,  followed  by 
all  his  train. 

"  How  long  do  yon  want  to  stay  ?  "  demanded 
Mr.  Grayle,  the  new  proprietor,  with  an  unfeel- 
ing stare  at  her  and  her  brother. 

"  I  don't  know ;  till  father  comes  home,  I  sup- 
pose," answered  Bertha,  alarmed  and  indignant 
at  the  coarse  manner  of  the  man. 

"  That  will  be  a  long  time,  I  rather  think,"  said 
Mr.  Grayle.  "  Haven't  you  got  any  uncles  or 
aunts,  or  other  friend*,  yon  conld  visit  for  a  few 
weeks?" 

"We  have  no  relative  but  uncle  Obed,  and  he 
is  in  South  America;  but  we  will  not  stay  here 
if  you  do  not  wish  us  to  do  so." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      113 

"Well,  I  don't  want  to  be  hard  with  you.  I 
have  a  purchaser  in  view  who  will  take  the  estate 
as  it  stands.  He  will  be  here  to-morrow ;  but  you 
can  stay  till  I  sell  the  place,"  said  Grayle. 

"Do  you  think  he  will  buy  it?"  asked  Rich- 
ard. 

"  I  am  reasonably  sure  that  he  will." 

"  Then  we  must  indeed  leave  Woodville," 
groaned  Richard. 

"  I  shouldn't  think  you  would  want  to  stay 
here,  after  what  has  happened,"  sneered  Grayle. 
"  But  if  you  want  to  stay,  of  course  I  shall  not 
drive  you  out.  As  to  your  father's  coming  home, 
don't  delude  yourself  on  that  point,  young  man. 
In  my  opinion,  you  won't  see  him  for  some 
years,  unless  you  go  where  he  happens  to  be." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  "  demanded  Rich- 
ard, his  face  crimson  with  sJiame. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  where  Singsing  is.  If 
you  call  at  the  penitentiary  there,  in  the  course  of 
a  month  or  two,  you  will  probably  find  him." 

"  You  are  an  unfeeling  brute,"  gasped  Richard, 
filled  with  rage  at  the  words  and  the  sneers  of  the 
money-lender. 

"  You  are  a  little  too  bad,"  whispered  one  of 
the  attendants  of  Grayle. 


ii4  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  speak  the  truth.  This  young  cub  has  been 
living  at  my  expense  for  some  time.  He  is  prouder 
than  his  father,  and  it  is  time  for  him  to  open 
his  eyes.  But  I  won't  be  hard  with  them.  I  shall 
lock  up  the  parlors,  the  library,  and  the  dining 
room.  They  may  have  the  use  of  the  kitchen  and 
their  own  chambers.  We  will  send  the  servants 
off  to-day.  They  may  have  their  rooms  and  wel- 
come, though  I  suppose  they  won't  thank  me  for 
them,"  growled  Grayle,  as  he  left  the  library. 

Richard  and  Bertha  were  almost  stunned  by 
these  words;  but  they  hastened  from  the  library  to 
their  own  chambers,  to  avoid  further  insult. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      115 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IN  WHICH  BERTHA  LEAVES  WOODVILLE,  AND  RICHARD 
IS  AS  PROUD  AS  EVER. 

THERE  was  no  longer  any  room,  if  there  was 
any  desire,  to  conceal  the  misfortunes  which  had 
overtaken  the  owner  of  Woodville.  The  servants 
were  all  talking  about  the  matter,  and  the  as- 
tounding intelligence  that  Mr.  Grant  had  been 
sent  to  the  Tombs  for  fraud  was  spreading  in 
every  direction.  Before  night  the  steward  and 
the  housekeeper,  the  boatman  and  the  grooms, 
indeed  all  who  had  held  any  position  at  Wood- 
ville, were  discharged.  Not  even  Mrs.  Green  was 
allowed  to  remain;  for  Grayle  feared  that  the 
affection  of  the  late  owner's  employees  might  lead 
them  to  appropriate  some  of  the  property  of  their 
master.  Perhaps  his  principal  object  was  to  drive 
the  children  from  the  place.  Whether  it  was  or 
not,  it  had  this  affect,  for  they  could  not  remain 
any  longer  in  the  deserted  home. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?  We  can't  remain  here 
any  longer,"  said  Richard,  as  the  three  lonely 


n6  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

children  met  together  in  the  chamber  of  Bertha. 
"  There  is  not  a  servant  left  in  the  house.  For 
one,  I  cannot  remain  here  any  longer." 

"  I  feel  that  we  are  intruders ;  but  where  shall 
we  go  ?  "  added  Bertha. 

"  An j  where ;  I  care  not  where." 

"  But  we  have  no  place  to  go.  Our  rich  and 
proud  neighbors  will  not  receive  us  now." 

"  If  I  knew  they  would,  I  wouldn't  darken  their 
doors,"  replied  Richard,  proudly. 

"  Nor  I,  after  what  they  did  yesterday,"  added 
Fanny. 

"  I  cannot  stay  here  to  be  watched  and  dogged 
by  that  man  whom  Grayle  has  left  in  charge  of 
the  place.  If  I  move,  he  follows  me,  as  though 
he  were  afraid  I  would  steal  something,"  con- 
tinued Eichard,  chafing  under  the  new  order  of 
things.  "  I  will  not  remain  under  this  roof  a 
single  hour  longer." 

"  Where  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"  We  will  go  to  the  hotel  over  at  Whitestone." 

"  To  the  hotel  ?  How  can  we  go  to  the  hotel. 
We  have  not  money  enough  to  pay  for  a  single 
day's  board." 

"  Yes,  we  have.  I  have  over  thirty  dollars  in 
my  pocket." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      117 

"  Thirty  dollars?  "  repeated  Bertha,  with  an  in- 
quiring glance. 

"  Yes ;  thirty-five,  I  think." 

"  O,  Richard !  "  sighed  Bertha. 

"  Come,  Berty,  don't  reprove  me  any  more ; 
and  as  I  have  no  longer  any  reason  for  keeping  it 
secret,  I  will  tell  you  that  I  had  fifty  dollars.  I 
saved  the  man  on  the  steamer  from  drowning,  and 
gave  him  the  name  of  John  Green." 

Bertha  was  not  disposed  to  criticise  his  conduct 
at  this  time,  but  she  was  rejoiced  to  know  that 
he  had  so  much  money,  and  that  he  came  honestly 
by  it.  She  readily  assented  to  the  plan  of  going 
to  the  hotel  in  Whitestone,  and  hastily  packed  up 
her  own  and  Fanny's  clothing  in  a  trunk  which 
belonged  to  her,  as  Richard  had  already  done  with 
his  own  wardrobe. 

The  trunks  were  carried  down  stairs  by  Richard 
and  Bertha,  and  placed  upon  the  piazza.  They 
were  heavy,  and  their  weight  reminded  the  proud 
youth  of  the  condition  to  which  he  had  fallen. 
He  had  never  done  such  a  thing  as  to  carry  his 
own  trunk  down  stairs  before.  There  were  a 
dozen  willing  servants  ready  to  do  such  work ;  but 
they  had  all  been  driven,  like  unclean  beasts,  from 
the  premises. 


n8  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

But  some  of  them  had  not  gone  far.  Old  Ben, 
like  a  guardian  angel,  hovered  around  the  house, 
in  spite  of  the  orders  of  the  keeper  to  leave;  and 
no  sooner  were  the  trunks  visible  on  the  piazza 
than  the  boatman  made  his  appearance.  He  had 
been  up  to  Bertha's  room  several  times  during  the 
day,  and  had  done  what  he  could  to  comfort  her ; 
but  he  was  old  and  poor,  and  he  had  nothing  to 
offer  but  words  of  hope  and  consolation. 

"  Are  you  going,  Miss  Bertha  ?  "  he  asked,  as 
the  children  came  out  of  the  house. 

"  Yes,  Ben ;  we  cannot  stay  here,  where  we  are 
not  wanted,  any  longer.  We  are  going  over  to 
the  hotel  at  Whitestone." 

"  Then  I  will  go  with  you ;  and  I  am  glad  that 
you  are  going  where  I  may  have  a  chance  to 
speak  to  you.  These  lubberly  landsharks  have 
been  trying  to  drive  me  away  from  Woodville ;  but 
I  shall  not  lose  sight  of  the  place  while  any  of  you 
remain.  Dear  me!  this  is  the  saddest  day  I  ever 
knew  in  my  life ;  but  after  a  storm  there's  always 
a  calm.  Keep  a  cheery  heart,  and  it  will  all  come 
out  right  in  the  end,"  said  Ben,  as  with  much  dif- 
ficulty he  shouldered  the  big  trunk,  and  walked 
towards  the  wharf. 

"  Stop,  there ! "  said  a  voice,  in  the  direction  of 
the  stable. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      119 

At  this  moment  Noddy  Newman  came  bounding 
over  the  lawn,  closely  pursued  by  the  keeper  of 


the  estate.    The  little  savage  had  been  driven  off 


I2O  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

the  premises  a  dozen  times  during  the  day ;  but  he 
had  as  many  times  returned,  determined  not  to 
desert  Bertha  in  this  hour  of  her  extremity. 

"  Stop !  "  shouted  the  keeper.  "  Put  down  that 
trunk ;  "  and  the  man  placed  himself  in  front  of 
Ben,  who,  followed  by  Bertha  and  Richard  with 
the  smaller  trunk,  was  leading  the  little  proces- 
sion down  to  the  pier. 

"What  do  you  want?"  said  Ben,  gruffly,  as  he 
deposited  the  trunk  upon  the  ground. 

"  I  ordered  you  to  leave  these  premises." 

"  And  I  am  going  to  leave  them  now,  once  and 
for  all,"  replied  Ben.  "  The  children  are  going 
with  me." 

"  You  cannot  carry  off  those  trunks." 

"  I  think  we  can  if  our  strength  holds  out. 
Here,  Noddy,  take  hold  of  that  trunk  with  Mr. 
Richard." 

"  Stop,  I  say !  You  shall  not  carry  those  trunks 
off  the  place." 

"  They  contain  nothing  but  our  clothes,"  inter- 
posed Bertha. 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  said  the  keeper,  who  was 
evidently  a  close  imitator  of  his  employer. 

"  7  know  it ;  go  ahead,  Ben,"  added  Richard. 

"  I  say  you  cannot  carry  off  those  trunks,"  per- 
sisted the  man. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     121 

"Can't  we  have  our  own  clothes?"  asked  Ber- 
tha. "  There  is  nothing  else  in  them." 

"Open  them,  and  let  me  see,"  added  the  man, 
roughly. 

"  I  will  not  do  it ! "  answered  Richard,  stoutly. 
"  I  give  my  word  that  they  contain  nothing  but 
our  clothing." 

"  What  is  your  word  good  for,  young  man  ? 
You  may  open  them,  or  carry  them  back  to  the 
house." 

"  I  will  do  neither.     Move  on,  Ben." 

Ben  attempted  to  take  up  the  trunk  again,  but 
the  man  put  his  hands  upon  it  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  prevent  him  from  doing  so. 

"  You  miserable  landshark,"  said  Ben,  letting 
go  the  trunk.  "  You  have  all  the  law  on  your  side, 
perhaps,  but  I  have  all  the  common  sense  and  hu- 
manity on  mine.  Aren't  you  ashamed  of  your- 
self to  persecute  these  poor  children  in  this  man- 
ner?" 

"  I  only  do  my  duty,"  whined  the  keeper. 

"  I  am  going  to  take  these  things  down  to  the 
pier,  whether  you  are  willing  or  not.  I  am  ready 
to  shake  hands  or  fight  with  you,  but  I  am  going 
to  do  what  I  say ;  "  and  Ben  proceeded  once  more 
to  shoulder  the  trunk. 


122  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

The  keeper  did  not  deem  it  prudent  to  interfere 
with  him  again  ;  and  perhaps  he  thought  he  was 
doing  more  than  his  duty  required  of  him.  The 
party  reached  the  pier,  and  were  on  the  point  of 
putting  the  trunks  into  the  four-oar  barge,  when 
the  keeper  again  interposed  to  prevent  them  from 
using  the  boat.  This  was  plainly  a  part  of 
Grayle's  property,  and  there  could  be  no  question 
in  regard  to  the  man's  right  to  interfere.  He 
was  inflexible  though  Ben  and  Bertha  both  begged 
the  use  of  the  boat  for  a  single  hour. 

Noddy  stood  by  watching  with  intense  interest 
the  proceedings,  and  so  indignant  that  he  could  no 
longer  contain  himself.  He  began  to  abuse  the 
keeper  in  round  terms;  and  finding  this  did  him  no 
damage,  he  picked  up  a  large  stone,  and  would 
have  thrown  it,  if  Bertha  had  not  commanded 
him  to  drop  it  and  be  silent. 

"  Why  don't  you  take  the  boat?  "  said  he. 

"  Because  it  is  not  right  to  take  it." 

"  Right !  Humph !  "  pouted  Noddy.  "  I  would 
take  it  quick  enough.  But  hold  on  a  minute,  Miss 
Bertha,  and  I  will  get  you  a  boat ; "  and  away  he 
ran  down  the  bank  of  the  river,  before  she  could 
stop  him. 

In  half  an  hour  he  returned  in  a  boat  with  Bob 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      123 

Bleeker,  whom  he  had  hailed  from  the  point  below. 
Bob  was  what  would  be  called  a  "  rough  "  in  the 
city  of  New  York,  but  he  was  a  man  of  generous 
heart,  and  had  many  good  qualities.  As  his  boat 
rounded  up  by  the  side  of  the  wharf,  he  stepped 
ashore,  and  offered  his  services  to  convey  the  party 
over  to  Whitestone;  for  Noddy  had  already  told 
him,  with  a  good  deal  of  coloring,  about  the  con- 
duct of  the  keeper. 

He  helped  Ben  put  the  trunks  in  the  boat,  and 
then  handed  Bertha  and  Fanny  to  their  seats. 
The  keeper  stood  by,  watching  the  movements  of 
the  party ;  and  when  they  were  seated  in  the  boat, 
and  Bob  was  about  to  shove  off,  he  uttered  some 
insolent  remarks. 

"  Stand  by  the  boat-hook  a  moment,  Ben,"  said 
Bob,  as  he  jumped  on  the  wharf  again. 

"  What  do  you  want  now  ?  "  said  the  keeper. 
"  Be  off — quick  as  you  can." 

"  I  can't  go  till  I  have  paid  my  respects  to  you," 
replied  Bob  Bleeker.  "  You  are  the  meanest  Hot- 
tentot that  ever  landed  on  this  side  of  North  River. 
Couldn't  you  let  these  children  have  a  boat  to 
get  out  of  your  sight  in  ?  " 

"Begone!  None  of  your  insolence  here!  I 
have  got  rid  of  them  now,"  growled  the  keeper. 


124  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  But  you  haven't  got  rid  of  me  just  yet.  I 
want  to  leave  you  my  card.  There  it  is ! "  he 
added,  striking  the  brutal  wretch  in  the  face  with 
such  force  that  the  blow  knocked  him  down.  "  I 
know  how  you've  treated  these  children ;  I  have 
heard  all  about  it ;  and  I  couldn't  leave  you  with- 
out something  to  remember  me  by.  My  name  is 
Bob  Bleeker,  of  Whitestone;  and  if  you  want  to 
meet  me  in  a  court  of  justice,  I  shall  be  willing 
to  pay  ten  dollars,  or  so,  for  the  sake  of  showing 
up  such  a  villain  as  you  are." 

The  keeper  picked  himself  up,  and  retreated 
from  the  spot,  muttering  vengeance  upon  the  head 
of  the  chivalrous  "  rough." 

Bob  Bleeker  did  wrong  to  strike  the  keeper, 
however  much  the  fellow  deserved  a  whipping 
for  his  brutality.  Noddy  stood  by,  and  witnesed 
the  castigation  with  a  satisfaction  that  he  ex- 
pressed in  the  most  extravagant  manner.  Bertha 
alone  condemned  the  conduct  of  Bob ;  but  she  gave 
him  credit  for  his  good  will. 

The  boat  was  pushed  off,  and  in  a  few  moments 
the  fresh  breeze  carried  them  over  to  Whitestone. 
Bob  and  Ben  conveyed  tne  trunks  up  to  the  hotel, 
where  they  obtained  two  rooms.  They  were  not 
such  as  the  children  had  occupied  at  Woodville, 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     125 

but  they  were  cheerful  and  comfortable.  At  an 
early  hour  Fanny,  worn  out  by  the  exciting  events 
of  the  day,  retired  to  rest,  leaving  Richard  and 
Bertha  to  consider  some  plan  for  the  future. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  Bertha  experienced  a 
feeling  of  relief  when  she  found  herself  domiciled 
at  the  hotel.  She  had  left  Woodville — had  been 
almost  driven  from  it;  had  been  insulted  and 
outraged  in  her  feelings;  but  the  tie  which  bound 
her  to  the  home  of  her  childhood  had  been  snapped. 
There  had  been  none  of  the  sighs  and  tears  with 
which  she  had  expected  to  bid  farewell  to  Wood- 
ville ;  she,  and  her  brother  and  sister,  had  been  too 
glad  to  get  away  from  it.  She  felt  stronger  and 
more  hopeful  than  she  had  since  the  first  note  of 
disaster  had  sounded  in  her  ears. 

However  dark  and  forbidding  the  future  might 
look,  she  was  ready  to  meet  it,  for  it  seemed  as 
though  all  of  grief  and  misfortune  that  the  world 
could  have  in  store  had  already  been  hurled  upon 
her  afflicted  family. 

"What  are  we  to  do,  Richard?"  said  she,  as 
she  joined  him  in  his  room. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  he,  blankly ;  "  I  have 
not  thought  of  that  yet." 

It  is  time  to  think  of  it." 


126  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"What  can  we  do?" 

"  There  are  a  hundred  things  that  we  can  do. 
You  are  strong  and  healthy,  and  have  been  well 
educated.  Perhaps  you  can  find  a  place." 

"A  place?  A  place  for  what?"  said  Richard, 
looking  curiously  into  the  face  of  his  sister. 

"A  place  to  work,  of  course,"  answered  she, 
with  no  attempt  to  soften  the  words. 

"  A  place  to  work ! "  repeated  he,  slowly,  as  if 
to  obtain  the  full  force  of  the  idea.  "  What  do 
you  suppose  I  can  do?  " 

"  You  can  get  a  place  to  learn  a  trade ;  or  you 
can  go  into  a  store." 

"  Get  a  place  to  learn  a  trade !  "  exclaimed  Rich- 
ard, rising  suddenly  from  his  chair,  and  walking 
up  and  down  the  room.  "  Don't  you  think  the 
only  son  of  Franklin  Grant  would  look  very  pretty 
learning  a  trade?  Don't  mention  such  a  thing  as 
that  to  me  again." 

"  Why,  Richard,  I  am  surprised  to  find  that  ex- 
perience has  taught  you  nothing,"  replied  Bertha. 
"  You  surely  do  not  expect  to  be  a  gentleman, 
now  that  there  is  not  a  dollar  of  all  your  father's 
wealth  left?" 

"  I  intend  to  be  a  gentleman  as  long  as  I  live." 

"  But  you  must  work." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      127 

*  I  have  money." 

"  Thirty-five  dollars !  How  long  do  you  suppose 
it  will  last?  It  will  not  pay  our  board  for  more 
than  two  or  three  weeks." 

"  Perhaps  I  can  do  something  that  is  light  and 
genteel.  At  any  rate,  I  will  see  what  can  be 
done  to-morrow;  but  I  shall  not  learn  any  trade, 
I'll  warrant  you." 

"  You  must  conquer  your  pride,  Richard,  and 
remember  that  we  are  beggars  now." 

"  Perhaps  we  are.  I  wonder  when  uncle  Obed 
is  coming  home  from  Valparaiso.  He  is  im- 
mensely rich. 

"  I  don't  know ;  we  might  starve  before  we 
heard  from  him." 

"Starve?  Pooh!  What  is  the  use  of  talking 
about  such  things." 

"  We  had  better  look  things  right  in  the  face. 
I  don't  think  you  have  considered  our  situation. 
We  have  neither  money  nor  friends.  We  must 
work  for  a  living,  unless  you  are  willing  to  go  to 
the  almshouse,  and  live  on  charity.  I  am  not,  and 
I  intend  to  go  to  work." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Berty?  "  asked  he, 
with  an  incredulous  smile. 

*  I  don't  know  yet;  I  am  going  to  work." 


128  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  Don't  disgrace  yourself  and  your  family, 
Berty." 

"  What  nonsense  you  talk,  Richard !  We  are 
beggars  and  outcasts,  and  it  is  all  folly  to  talk 
about  disgracing  myself  or  the  family.  I  shall 
find  something  to  do  in  a  few  days.  I  wish  I  could 
see  father.  He  would  tell  me  what  to  do." 

Richard's  pride  could  not  yet  be  conquered,  and 
Bertha  retired,  feeling  that  the  rude  hand  of  neces- 
sity would  soon  make  hard  terms  with  him.  But 
with  such  views  as  he  held,  it  was  not  safe  to  re* 
main  at  a  hotel,  and  she  resolved  to  find  a  cheapeE 
residence  the  next  daj. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      129 


CHAPTER  X. 

IN   WHICH    BERTHA    VISITS   THE    WIDOW    LAMB,    AND 
MAKES  ARRANGEMENTS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 

ON  the  following  morning,  Bertha,  who,  in  spite 
of  her  cares  and  trials,  had  slept  well,  rose  early, 
and  applied  herself  with  zeal  and  energy  to  the 
great  work  before  her — a  work  so  difficult  and 
delicate  that  it  would  have  challenged  the  whole 
ability  of  a  mature  and  experienced  mind.  Her 
pathway  was  full  of  trials  and  perplexities,  for 
she  had  but  little  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  was 
without  the  aid  of  influential  friends. 

There  were  two  very  difficult  problems,  which  re- 
quired an  immediate  solution.  The  first  was,  what 
to  do  with  Fanny ;  and  the  second,  whether  Rich- 
ard would  be  a  help  or  a  hindrance  to  her.  If 
there  had  been  no  one  but  herself  to  provide  for, 
the  task  would  have  been  an  easy  one.  Fanny 
was  too  young  to  do  any  thing  for  herself,  and 
Richard's  pride  was  a  stumbling-block  in  his  path. 
The  thirty-five  dollars  in  her  brother's  possession 
was  but  a  small  sum  to  pay  the  expenses  of  a 


130  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

family ;  but  she  was  not  sure  that  even  this  would 
be  devoted  to  the  purpose. 

Her  father  was  languishing  in  prison.  He  was 
Buffering  for  himself,  and  suffering  for  them ;  for 
she  knew  that  his  greatest  grief  would  be  the 
thought  of  his  children,  now  cast  penniless  and 
unprotected  upon  the  cold  world.  She  wanted  to 
do  something  for  him,  and  she  would  gladly  have 
gone  to  his  prison,  and  shared  its  gloom  and  its 
horrors  with  him,  if  she  could  take  the  weight  of 
one  straw  from  the  heavy  burden  he  was  compelled 
to  bear.  But  the  nearer  and  more  pressing  duties 
of  the  hour  would  not  permit  her  to  yield  even 
this  filial  offering  till  she  had  done  something  to 
prepare  for  the  cold  and  forbidding  future. 

These  were  some  of  the  perplexities;  but  the 
perils  and  difficulties  that  surrounded  her  seemed 
to  give  her  new  strength  and  new  courage.  The 
words  of  the  Scripture,  "  As  thy  day,  so  shall  thy 
strength  be,"  as  embodied  in  a  beautiful  and  com- 
forting poem  by  Mrs.  Sigourney,  lingered  encour- 
agingly in  her  mind,  to  sweeten  the  cup  of  adver- 
sity and  nerve  her  soul  for  the  conflict  of  the  day. 
On  this  morning,  therefore,  she  was  calm  and  reso- 
lute, and  looked  hopefully  forward  to  what  the 
day  might  bring  forth. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      131 

Her  first  care  was  for  Fanny;  and  she  had 
already  decided  what  disposition  to  make  of  her. 
She  intended,  with  the  assistance  of  Ben,  to  find  a 
place  in  some  poor  but  respectable  family,  where 
she  could  be  boarded  for  a  small  sum.  Bertha 
hoped  that  before  many  weeks  the  family  might  be 
united  again  under  one  roof,  however  humble; 
and  this  arrangement  was  to  be  only  a  temporary 
one. 

While  Eichard  and  Fanny  were  still  sleeping, 
she  looked  out  of  her  window  and  saw  the  old  boat- 
man walking  up  and  down  in  front  of  the  house. 
He  had  lodged  with  Bob  Bleeker;  but  very  much 
as  a  faithful  watch  dog  keeps  guard  over  the  prop- 
erty of  his  master,  he  kept  his  eyes  upon  the 
children,  without  being  forward,  or  intruding  up- 
on them  at  unseemly  hours.  Bertha  passed 
through  the  silent  halls  of  the  hotel,  and  joined 
the  boatman  upon  the  piazza,  where  she  informed 
him  of  her  plan  in  regard  to  Fanny. 

"  Now,  Ben,  can  you  help  me  find  a  good  place, 
where  she  can  be  boarded  for  a  small  sum?  for 
you  know  we  cannot  afford  to  pay  much." 

"  I  know  a  poor  widow  woman,  where  I  used 
to  board  myself,  years  ago;  but  the  place  would 
not  suit  Miss  Fanny.  It  wouldn't  be  stylish 
enough." 


132  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  No  matter  for  that,  Ben.  It  will  come  hard 
to  her,  but  she  must  learn  to  live  as  poor  folks 
live.  Is  she  a  good  woman  ?  " 

"  There  isn't  a  better  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
She  took  care  of  me  when  I  was  laid  up  with  the 
rheumatism.  Mrs.  Lamb  is  a  Christian  woman,  if 
there  is  one  in  this  world,"  said  Ben  with  empha- 
sis; "and  if  I  had  a  daughter,  I  don't  know 
another  person  with  whom  I  would  more  willingly 
trust  her." 

"  Do  you  think  Mrs.  Lamb  would  be  willing  to 
take  Fanny?" 

"  I  think  she  would ;  only  I  am  afraid  Miss 
Fanny  would  give  her  a  great  deal  of  trouble. 
You  know  she  has  very  fine  notions,  and  Mrs. 
Lamb's  house  isn't  a  bit  like  Woodville." 

"  Of  course  not ;  but  Fanny  may  as  well  begin 
first  as  last  to  learn  her  lesson.  I  am  sorry  for 
her,  poor  child;  I  pity  her,  for  I  know  it  is  a 
terrible  blow  to  her  to  be  deprived  of  the  nice 
things  she  had  at  home." 

"  It  is  no  worse  for  her  than  it  is  for  you,  Miss 
Bertha,"  added  Ben,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  never  cared  so  much  for  fine  things  as  Rich- 
ard and  Fanny.  It  is  no  credit  to  me,  for  I  sup- 
pose I  was  born  so." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      133 

"  Yes,  Miss  Bertha ;  one  who  has  been  rich  and 
humble,  can  be  humble  enough  in  poverty;  but 
pride  and  want  don't  go  well  together." 

"  Where  does  Mrs.  Lamb   live  ?  >' 

"  About  half  a  mile  from  here,  just  outside  of 
the  village.  She  has  got  a  very  pretty  cottage 
which  her  husband  left  her  when  he  died;  but 
that  is  all  she  has  got,  and  she  has  to  work  pretty 
hard  for  a  living.  She  does  washing  and  ironing 
for  the  rich  people  of  the  place,  and  she  has  as 
many  friends  as  a  member  of  Congress.  We  will 
walk  over  to  the  widow's  house,  if  you  please, 
Miss  Bertha.  If  you  will  walk  along,  I  will  fol- 
low you." 

"  Come  with  me,  Ben,"  said  Bertha,  with  a 
smile,  as  she  took  hold  of  his  arm,  and  led  him 
along  for  a  few  paces. 

"  I  didn't  know  as  you  would  like  to  walk  with 
a  rough-looking  man  like  me,"  added  Ben,  as  he 
dashed  away  a  truant  tear,  which  his  pride  and 
his  affection  had  jointly  contributed  to  form. 

<l  I  am  not  proud,  Ben." 

"You  never  were,  Miss  Bertha." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Ben  ?  I  have 
been  so  selfish  that  I  have  hardly  thought  of 
you." 


134  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  O,  I  shall  do  very  well,  Miss  Bertha/'  answered 
Ben,  with  a  smile  of  pleasure  at  this  manifestation 
of  interest  on  the  part  of  his  master's  daughter. 

"  I  had  hoped  you  would  always  remain  in  our 
family;  and  it  hurts  my  feelings  to  see  you  now, 
an  old  man,  and  rather  infirm,  thrown  upon  the 
world  to  take  care  of  yourself." 

*'  Don't  think  of  me.  I  have  my  plans  all 
formed." 

"  My  father  never  gave  you  large  wages,  for  I 
know  he  meant  to  take  care  of  you  as  long  as  you 
lived.  I  suppose  you  haven't  saved  much." 

"  Hardly  any  thing,  Miss  Bertha.  I  sent  all 
the  money  I  could  spare  to  my  daughter,  out  west, 
after  her  husband  died.  I  don't  know  how  she 
will  get  along  now.  But  I  can  manage  to  make 
some  money.  I  have  a  matter  of  a  hundred  dol- 
lars or  so,  salted  down  in  the  Savings  Bank  in 
Whitestone,  for  a  rainy  day." 

"  That  will  not  support  you." 

"  No ;  I  bargained  for  a  boat,  last  night,  with 
Bob  Bleeker,  and  was  to  have  given  him  this 
hundred  dollars  in  part  pay;  but  I " 

The  old  man  suspended  his  speech  at  this  point, 
and  walked  along  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground,  while  the  long  breaths  he  drew  indicated 
the  emotion  that  agitated  his  bosom. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      135 

"What,  Ben?"  gently  asked  Bertha. 

"  I  didn't  dare  to  pay  away  this  money." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Since  you  were  driven  out  of  Woodville,  I 
have  thought  this  hundred  dollars  might  be  of 
some  help  to  you." 

"To  me!"  exclaimed  Bertha.  "I  could  not 
think  of  touching  your  money.  Besides,  we  shall 
not  need  it.  Richard  has  some  money,  and  we 
shall  get  along  very  well.  Keep  it,  Ben,  for  you 
will  need  it  yourself." 

"  It  is  all  at  your  service,  Miss  Bertha.  It  is 
little  I  can  offer,  but  you  are  welcome  to  it." 

"  We  shall  not  need  it,  Ben ;  really,  we  shall 
not" 

"Then  perhaps  I  had  better  buy  the  boat.  I 
am  going  boating.  There  are  plenty  of  people  and 
parties  in  Whitestone  who  like  to  sail  on  the  river ; 
and  since  Bob  Bleeker  gave  up  the  business,  there 
has  been  no  regular  boatman.  I  think  I  can  do 
very  well." 

"  I  hope  so,  I  am  sure,  Ben,"  replied  Bertha, 
heartily.  "  I  am  rejoiced  to  find  you  have  some- 
thing to  do  that  will  suit  your  taste." 

"  I  shall  do  very  well,  Miss  Bertha.  No  one 
need  worry  about  old  Ben,  as  long  as  he  has  the 


136  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

use  of  his  limbs.  There  is  one  thing  more,  Miss 
Bertha,  which  I  suppose  you  have  not  thought 
about.  What  is  to  become  of  Noddy  Newman  ?  " 

"  Poor  little  fellow !  "  sighed  Bertha.  "  I  sup- 
pose I  can  do  nothing  more  for  him.  Where  is 
he  now?" 

"  He  slept  with  me  at  Bob  Bleeker's  last  night. 
I  suppose  he  will  take  to  the  woods,  and  become 
a  vagabond  again,  if  he  can't  stay  with  you.  He 
don't  seem  to  care  for  any  body  on  earth,  Miss 
Bertha,  but  you,  though  he  will  mind  me  for  your 
sake.  I  believe  the  little  fellow  would  die  for  you 
in  a  moment." 

"  Poor  Noddy !  "  said  Bertha.  "  I  wish  I  could 
take  care  of  him.  He  is  a  smart  boy.  I  have 
taught  him  to  read,  and  I  had  great  hopes  that  I 
should  make  something  of  him." 

"  I  have  been  thinking,  Miss  Bertha,"  added 
Ben,  taking  off  his  hat,  and  scratching  his  bald 
head,  as  though  a  magnificent  idea  had  taken  pos- 
session of  his  mind,  "  if  you  could  induce  the  boy 
to  stay  with  me,  I  will  do  as  well  by  him  as  I 
can.  I  can  read,  and  write,  and  cipher,  and  I  will 
help  him  along  with  these  things.  He  is  smart 
and  active,  and  having  him  with  me  in  the  boat 
would  ease  my  old  bones  a  great  deal." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      137 

Bertha  was  delighted  with  this  plan,  and  readily 
promised  to  do  all  she  could  to  make  Noddy  stay 
with  Ben.  At  this  point  in  the  conversation,  they 
arrived  at  the  house  of  the  widow  Lamb.  The 
cottage,  as  the  boatman  had  represented,  was  very 
neat,  and  even  pretty,  and  Bertha  thought  her 
sister  ought  to  be  happy  in  such  a  place. 

Mrs.  Lamb  was  willing  to  take  Fanny  to  beard, 
for  she  was  very  fond  of  children;  but  Bertha 
frankly  told  her  that  the  little  miss  might  cause 
her  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  for  she  had  been  used 
to  having  a  great  many  servants  around  her.  The 
widow  thought  she  could  manage  her;  at  any  rate, 
she  would  try  it,  and  she  hoped  she  should  be 
able  to  make  her  happy  and  contented.  Bertha 
thought  her  price — two  dollars  a  week — was  very 
reasonable  for  one  who  was  likely  to  be  so  difficult 
to  please;  and  she  took  her  leave  of  the  laundress, 
agreeing  to  bring  Fanny  to  her  new  home  in  the 
course  of  the  day. 

On  their  return  to  the  hotel,  Ben  hastened  back 
to  Bob  Bleecker's  to  close  the  bargain  for  the  boat, 
while  Bertha  went  up  stairs  to  announce  the  new 
arrangement  to  Fanny  and  Richard.  The  former 
had  not  yet  risen,  and  as  Bertha  assisted  in  dress- 
ing her,  she  told  her  what  had  been  done. 


138  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  Then  I  am  to  live  with  a  washerwoman !  "  said 
Miss  Fanny,  with  a  toss  of  her  head. 

"  It  is  a  very  pretty  cottage,  and  Mrs.  Lamb  is 
a  very  nice  woman.  You  will  be  quite  happy  and 
contented  there,  if  you  are  willing  to  be  so  any 
where  that  our  small  means  will  permit  you  to 
live." 

"  But  only  to  think  of  it !  Live  with  a  washer- 
woman ! " 

"  Fanny,  we  are  all  beggars  now.  We  are 
poorer  than  Mrs.  Lamb,  with  whom  you  will 
board.  Beggars  cannot  be  choosers,  you  know." 

"  Father  will  find  me  a  better  place  than  that." 

"  Father  can  do  nothing  for  us  now,  if  he  ever 
can,"  replied  Bertha,  the  tears  filling  her  eyes. 
"  He  is  in  prison,  and  you  ought  to  be  thankful 
that  you  have  a  home  at  all." 

The  tears  in  the  eyes  of  her  sister  touched  the 
heart  of  Fanny.  Her  pride  was  the  greatest  defect 
of  her  character.  She  had  never  known  much  of 
a  mother's  care;  if  she  had,  she  might  have  been 
a  different  person. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Bertha  ?  "  asked 
Fanny. 

"  I  am  going  to  work.  I  shall  find  a  place 
•where  I  can  earn  money  enough  to  pay  your  board. 
I  hope  Richard  will  help  me." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      139 

"  Of  course  he  will." 

"  Now,  if  you  will  go  to  your  new  place,  and 
never  complain  of  any  thing,  nor  cause  Mrs.  Lamb 
any  trouble,  you  will  do  all  I  can  expect  of  you." 

"  I  will  do  the  best  I  can." 

"  That  is  all  I  ask." 

Bertha  spent  an  hour  in  talking  to  her  sister 
about  her  conduct  in  her  new  home;  and  Fanny, 
who  seemed  to  be  in  a  better  frame  of  mind  than 
ever  before,  listened  atentively  to  all  she  said,  and 
promised  faithfully  to  conquer  her  pride,  and  give 
Mrs.  Lamb  no  trouble.  She  said  she  would  wait 
upon  herself,  and  never  complain  of  her  food  or 
her  apartment.  Bertha  regarded  this  as  a 
triumph,  for  she  felt  that  Fanny  would  try  to  do 
all  she  promised. 

Eichard  turned  up  his  nose  at  the  idea  of  hav- 
ing his  sister  board  with  a  washerwoman ;  but  as 
neither  his  figures  nor  his  common  sense  could 
suggest  a  better  plan,  he  was  compelled  to  yield. 

"  Now,  Richard,  you  must  let  me  have  some  of 
your  money;  for,  to  guard  aga  nst  any  accident, 
I  wish  to  pay  Fanny's  board  for  two  or  three 
months  in  advance." 

"I  can't  spare  any  money  now.  What's  the 
use  of  paying  her  board  before  it  is  due?  " 


140  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  We  do  not  know  what  may  happen.    You  and 
I  can  take  care  of  ourselves;  and  I  think  it  is  no 
more  than  right  that  we  should  provide  for  Fanny 
beyond  the  chance  of  an  accident." 
"  But  we  must  pay  our  own  board." 
"  Of  course,  we  cannot  remain  at  this  hotel." 
"  Certainly  we  can,  at  least  for  a  time." 
"What  do  you  intend  to  do,  Richard,  for  a 
living?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  shall  find  something.  How 
much  money  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  You  had  better  give  me  twenty  dollars.  That 
will  pay  Fanny's  board  for  ten  weeks." 

"  Twenty  dollars !  Why,  that  is  more  than  half 
of  all  I  have,"  replied  Richard,  dismayed  at  the 
prospect  of  parting  with  so  much  of  his  funds. 

Bertha  had  a  double  motive  in  asking  for  this 
large  proportion  of  Richard's  money.  The  first 
was,  to  secure  the  payment  of  Fanny's  board,  in 
case  her  plans  for  the  future  should  fail ;  and  the 
second  was,  that  she  had  but  little  confidence  in 
her  brother's  firmness.  She  feared  that  while  his 
money  lasted,  he  would  do  nothing  to  help  him- 
self; that,  while  his  pride  had  even  thirty-five  dol- 
lars for  a  foundation,  he  would  spend  his  time  in 
idleness,  and  perhaps  do  worse. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       141 

Actuated  by  these  motives,  she  reasoned  with 
him  so  forcibly  and  eloquently,  that  he  at  last 
handed  her  the  money ;  but  he  gave  it  up  with  a 
protest,  and  with  many  regrets.  After  breakfast 
the  bill  at  the  hotel  was  paid,  and  Fanny  was 
taken  to  her  new  home.  Bertha  remained  with 
her  that  day,  putting  her  room  and  her  wardrobe 
in  order,  and  instructing  her  still  further  in  the 
duties  and  relations  of  her  new  position. 

Notwithstanding  the  odium  of  boarding  with  a 
washerwoman,  Fanny  liked  the  place  very  well, 
and  even  thought  she  should  be  contented  with 
Mrs.  Lamb,  who  certainly  did  every  thing  she 
could  to  smooth  down  the  fall  from  the  palace  to 
the  cottage. 

During  the  day,  Ben  and  Noddy  paid  them  a 
visit.  The  little  savage  seemed  to  take  quite  a 
sensible  view  of  the  new  order  of  things ;  and  when 
Bertha  told  !  :m  what  had  been  done  for  him,  he 
agreed  to  re  Main  with  Ben,  and  be  a  good  boy, 
if  she  would  come  and  see  him  as  often  as  she 
could. 

Towards  night,  Bertha  returned  to  the  hotel, 
where  she  found  a  letter  from  Richard. 


142  Rich  and  Humble,  or 


CHAPTER  XI. 

IN    WHICH     BERTHA    STARTS    FOR    NEW     YORK,     AND 

MAKES  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  MASTER  CHARLEY 

BYRON. 

BERTHA  was  not  a  little  startled  when  the  clerk 
of  the  hotel  handed  her  the  letter,  upon  which  she 
recognized  the  handwriting  of  her  brother.  It  was 
ominous  of  disaster;  at  least,  it  suggested  that 
Eichard  was  not  at  hand  to  speak  for  himself;  and 
she  feared  that  his  quick  impulses  had  led  him  to 
take  a  step  of  which  he  had  not,  probably,  con- 
sidered the  consequences.  It  required  some 
courage  to  open  a  letter  from  him  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, and  she  held  it  in  her  hand  for  some 
moments  before  she  could  muster  resolution 
enough  to  break  the  seal ;  and  when  she  did  so, 
her  worst  fears  were  confirmed. 

Eichard  wrote  that  he  had  been  engaged  by  a 
gentleman  to  take  his  boat  down  to  New  York. 
He  was  to  receive  five  dollars  for  the  job;  and  as 
it  admitted  of  no  delay,  he  had  been  obliged  to 
sail  at  once,  without  seeing  her.  At  the  close  of 
the  epistle,  Eichard  boasted  a  little  of  his  first 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      143 

success  in  earning  money,  and  declared  that,  when 
he  got  to  the  city,  he  should  certainly  find  employ- 
ment which  would  be  both  agreeable  and  profit- 
able; and  when  he  did,  he  would  inform  her  of 
the  fact. 

The  thoughtless,  impulsive  boy  had  actually 
abandoned  his  sister,  and,  full  of  hope  and  con- 
ceit, had  embarked  in  his  career  of  life.  Perhaps 
he  thought  Bertha  was  abundantly  able  to  take 
care  of  herself,  and  did  not  need  any  assistance 
from  him,  but  it  would  have  been  more  honorable 
and  gallant  in  him  if  he  had  left  a  few  dollars 
in  her  hands  to  pay  her  way  until  she  could  make 
a  beginning. 

Bertha's  doubts  and  fears  were  not  for  herself. 
She  knew  that  Richard  was  thoughtless  and 
flighty,  and  she  trembled  lest  he  should  again 
fall  into  evil  company.  The  city  would  have  been 
a  bad  place  for  him  under  any  circumstances,  but 
doubly  so  if  he  had  no  one  to  give  him  a  friendly 
word  of  advice.  He  had  gone,  and  whatever  she 
thought  or  felt  in  regard  to  him,  nothing  could  be 
done  to  bring  him  back.  She  was  now  alone.  The 
family  had  separated,  and  the  path  of  each  seemed 
to  be  in  a  different  direction  from  that  of  the 
others. 


144  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

She  could  not  think  of  her  situation  without  a 
feeling  of  sadness.  A  sense  of  loneliness  which 
she  had  not  before  experienced  came  over  her, 
which,  with  her  anxiety  for  the  fate  of  her  father 
and  her  brother,  had  a  very  depressing  influence 
upon  her.  But  she  had  no  time  to  indulge  in 
sentimental  emotions,  for  life  had  suddenly  be- 
come real  to  her,  and  stern  necessity  compelled 
her  to  make  it  earnest. 

As  she  had  now  disposed  of  Fanny,  and  Rich- 
ard had  disposed  of  himself,  she  had  nothing  to 
do  but  to  apply  herself  to  the  remaining  duty  of 
the  hour.  She  must  go  to  work ;  but  what  to  do, 
and  where  to  find  a  place,  were  very  perplexing 
questions.  She  was  willing  to  do  any  thing  that 
she  could,  even  to  labor  with  her  hands,  if  it 
would  afford  her  the  means  of  supporting  herself 
and  her  sister. 

With  these  thoughts  in  her  mind,  she  walked 
through  the  principal  street  of  Whitestone,  to  ob- 
tain any  suggestion  which  the  stores  and  other 
places  of  business  might  give  her.  In  her  walks 
through  the  place  in  more  prosperous  days,  she 
had  occasionally  seen  a  notice  posted  in  the  win- 
dows, of  a  "  Saleswoman  wanted,"  or,  "  A  young 
lady  to  act  as  Cashier."  She  walked  up  the  street 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      145 

on  one  side,  and  down  on  the  other,  attentively 
examining  every  window  and  door,  in  search  of 
such  a  notice.  But  Whitestone  at  the  present  time 
did  not  need  a  saleswoman  or  a  cashier.  Disap- 
pointed and  disheartened  by  her  ill  success,  she 
walked  down  to  the  river,  not  from  any  motive, 
but  because  she  had  nowhere  else  to  go. 

Now,  for  the  first  time  since  she  had  read  her 
brother's  letter,  the  thought  came  to  her  with  fear- 
ful force,  that  she  had  less  than  half  a  dollar  in 
the  world.  This  was  not  enough  to  pay  for  her 
lodging  at  the  hotel,  and  she  had  not  been  to 
supper.  Poverty  seemed  more  terrible  to  her  now 
than  ever  before.  She  began  to  feel  that  her  sit- 
uation was  not  only  trying,  but  absolutely  appall- 
ing. Even  hunger  and  cold  threatened  to  assail 
her,  for  the  little  money  she  had  would  not  supply 
the  necessities  of  life  for  even  a  single  day.  She 
could  not  dig,  and  she  was  ashamed  to  beg. 

It  was  now  growing  dark,  and  she  could  not 
with  safety  remain  in  the  streets  any  longer. 
There  was  only  one  house  in  the  vicinity  at  which 
she  believed  she  should  be  welcome,  and  this  was 
the  house  of  the  widow  Lamb.  It  was  revolting  to 
her  pride  to  force  herself,  as  it  were,  upon  a 
stranger;  but  she  could  not  go  to  the  hotel,  and 


146  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

there  was  no  other  way  to  do.  It  was  after  th« 
supper  hour,  and  on  her  way  through  the  village, 
she  stopped  at  a  restaurant,  and  had  a  very  simple 
supper  of  tea  and  bread  and  butter ;  but  even  this 
was  purchased  with  a  large  part  of  all  her  worldly 
wealth. 

Mrs.  Lamb  welcomed  her  to  her  humble  cottage, 
and  she  passed  the  night  with  Fanny.  But  the 
future  looked  so  blank  and  dismal  to  poor  Bertha, 
that  she  was  less  cheerful  than  usual,  though  she 
tried  to  conceal  her  doubts  and  fears  from  the 
widow  and  from  her  sister.  Fanny  had  a  thou- 
sand questions  to  ask,  to  only  a  few  of  which 
Bertha  could  give  satisfactory  answers. 

"  Have  you  got  a  place  to  work  yet  ?  "  was  put 
a  dozen  times  by  the  inquisitive  little  girl. 

"  I  have  not,"  answered  Bertha,  sadly ;  "  and  I 
am  afraid  I  shall  not  be  able  to  find  one  in  White- 
stone." 

"What  will  you  do?" 

"  I  must  go  to  the  city,  I  suppose." 

"  Then  you  will  see  father." 

"  I  shall  certainly  try  to  see  him." 

"You  will  tell  him  that  I  am  a  good  girl— 
won't  you  ?  " 

"  I  will,  Fanny,  and  I  am  afraid  that  will  bo 
the  best  news  I  shall  have  for  him." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      147 

"  Tell  him,  too,  that  I  am  very  sorry  he  is  in 
prison,  and  I  would  do  any  thing  to  get  him  out." 

"  I  will,  Fanny,"  replied  Bertha,  as  she  threw 
her  arms  around  her  neck  and  kissed  her.  "  Yon 
have  been  a  good  girl  to-day,  and  Mrs.  Lamb 
says  you  have  not  only  given  her  no  trouble,  but 
that  you  have  helped  her  a  great  deal  about  her 
work." 

"  I  tried  to  be  good,  Bertha,"  said  Fanny.  "  1 
haven't  complained  a  bit." 

"  I  hope  you  never  will." 

"  But  I  don't  want  you  to  go  off  and  leave  me." 

"  I  must  go,  Fanny ;  but  one  of  these  days  we 
shall  meet  again,  and  be  all  the  happier  for  the 
trials  and  sorrow  which  we  have  been  called  upon 
to  endure." 

"  I  hope  we  shall,"  replied  Fanny,  whose  con- 
duct during  the  first  day  of  her  residence  at  the 
cottage  had  been  very  hopeful. 

Fanny  turned  over  and  went  to  sleep  after  she 
had  been  duly  praised  and  encouraged  for  her  ex- 
cellent demeanor.  But  Bertha's  cup  was  too  full 
to  permit  her  to  sleep.  The  morrow's  sun  prom- 
ised to  dawn  upon  a  day  of  greater  trial  and  dif- 
ficulty than  she  had  yet  known.  Twenty  cents  was 
all  the  money  she  had  in  the  world,  and  White- 


Rich  and  Humble,  or 


stone  had  no  employment  to  give  her.  She  must 
go  to  New  York  ;  but  how  to  get  there  was  beyond 
her  comprehension.  The  distance  was  twenty- 
five  miles,  and  she  had  not  the  means  to  pay  her 
fare  by  railroad  or  steamboat. 

The  thought  of  borrowing  a  few  dollars  oc- 
curred to  her;  but  there  was  no  one,  except  the  old 
boatman,  of  whom  she  would  dare  ask  such  a 
favor.  Her  pride  —  that  self-respect  which  gives 
dignity  and  nobility  to  the  character  —  revolted  at 
the  idea  of  asking  even  him  for  money,  which  she 
might  never  be  able  to  pay.  But  while  she  was 
perplexed  and  agitated  by  these  difficult  problems, 
nature  kindly  came  to  her  aid,  and  she  dropped 
asleep  without  any  plan  for  the  coming  day. 

She  was  going  to  leave  the  cottage  at  an  early 
hour  the  next  morning,  but  Mrs.  Lamb  pressed  her 
to  remain  until  after  breakfast;  and  then,  with 
many  tears,  she  bade  farewell  to  her  sister,  not 
daring  to  believe  that  they  would  soon  meet  again. 
Bertha  was  stronger  and  more  courageous  than 
she  had  been  on  the  preceding  evening;  for  the 
more  we  look  trials  and  troubles  in  the  face,  the 
more  familiar  we  become  with  them,  and  the  less 
terrible  do  they  seem  to  us. 

With  a  feeling  that  she  had  only  half  done  her 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      149 

work  the  night  before,  she  again  walked  through 
the  main  street,  and  even  had  the  hardihood  to 
enter  several  of  the  larger  stores  and  apply  for  a 
situation.  Although  she  had  no  better  success 
than  before,  she  was  strengthened  by  the  con- 
sciousness that  she  had  permitted  no  false  pride 
to  come  between  her  and  the  attainment  of  her 
purpose.  She  had  done  all  she  could  do  in  White- 
stone,  and  it  would  be  of  no  avail  to  remain  there 
any  longer. 

Then  came  up  the  question  again,  how  should 
she  get  to  the  city;  for  she  had  fully  determined 
to  go  there.  She  could  not  walk,  and  she  could 
not  pay  her  fare.  Why  could  she  not  walk,  she 
asked  herself.  She  was  healthy  and  strong,  and 
had  always  been  accustomed  to  a  great  deal  of 
out-door  exercise.  There  were  no  impossibilities 
to  one  in  her  situation,  and  whatever  the  result 
she  would  be  no  worse  off  on  the  way  than  if  she 
remained  in  Whitestone.  She  decided  at  once  to 
start,  and  leave  the  issue  in  the  hands  of  that 
kind  Providence  which  never  permits  the  true  and 
the  good  to  be  utterly  cast  down. 

She  would  not  think  of  leaving  Whitestone 
without  saying  good  by  to  Ben  and  Noddy;  and 
for  this  purpose  she  went  down  to  the  wharf, 


150  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

where  the  boatman  had  the  day  before  commenced 
business  with  his  new  boat.  Much  to  her  regret, 
she  found  they  had  gone  up  the  river  with  a 
party  of  gentlemen,  and  would  not  return  till 
late  in  the  evening.  Disappointed  at  this  intelli- 
gence, she  went  to  the  hotel,  where  she  had  left  her 
trunk,  and  wrote  a  short  note  to  Ben,  informing 
him  of  her  intention.  The  clerk  kindly  promised 
to  take  care  of  her  trunk  till  she  sent  for  it,  and 
she  turned  from  the  house  to  commence  her  weary 
pilgrimage. 

Following  the  road  near  the  bank  of  the  river, 
she  walked  patiently  and  perseveringly  for  three 
hours,  till  she  heard  a  clock  on  a  church  strike 
twelve.  She  was  so  faint  and  weary  that  she 
could  walk  no  further,  and  seated  herself  under  a 
tree  by  the  side  of  the  river,  to  rest  herself.  She 
had  retired  a  short  distance  from  the  road,  so  that 
she  need  not  be  subject  to  the  rude  gaze  of  those 
who  passed. 

In  the  last  village  through  which  she  passed,  she 
bad  bought  three  small  rolls;  and  upon  these  she 
made  her  dinner.  A  few  blackberries  that  grew  in 
the  field  were  a  great  addition  to  the  feast.  Re* 
freshed  by  her  meal,  and  by  an  hour  of  rest,  she 
resumed  her  walk.  She  had  gone  but  a  short  dis- 
tance before  her  attention  was  attracted  by  the 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      151 

loud  cries  of  a  child  in  a  pasture  adjoining  the 
highway.  The  screams  were  so  piteous  that  she 
could  not  help  getting  through  the  fence,  and  has- 
tening to  the  spot  from  whence  they  came,  where 
she  found  a  little  boy,  very  prettily  dressed,  and 
evidently  the  child  of  wealthy  parents,  sitting 
on  a  stone.  His  eyes  were  red  and  swollen  with 
weeping,  and  he  was  sobbing  and  moaning  as 
though  he  had  some  real  cause  of  grief.  He  was 
apparently  about  six  years  old.  Bertha,  moved 
by  his  distress,  took  him  tenderty  by  the  hand,  and 
gently  patted  his  head,  to  assure  him  she  was  his 
friend. 

"What  is  the  matter,  little  boy?"  she  asked, 
when  she  had  fully  convinced  him  that  she  was 
not  an  evil  spirit  sent  to  torment  him. 

"  I  don't  know  the  way  home,"  blubbered  the 
little  fellow. 

"  Don't  cry  any  more,  and  I  think  we  can  find 
your  home.  What  is  your  name?" 

"  Charley." 

"Haven't  you  got  another  name?" 

"  Charley  Byron.  I  am  six  years  old  last  May,, 
and  Millard  Fillmore  is  President  of  the  United 
States,"  replied  Charley,  suddenly  brightening  up, 
and  wiping  away  the  great  tears  that  still  lingered 
on  his  cheek. 


152  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  You  are  a  nice  little  fellow,  and  your  educa- 
tion has  not  been  neglected,  I  see." 

"  I  can  spell  cat ;  c-a-t,  cat,"  continued  Charley, 
who  appeared  to  have  forgotten  all  his  sorrows. 

"You  spelled  it  right,"  said  Bertha,  with  a 
smile.  "  Do  you  know  where  your  father  lives?  " 

"  My  father  lives  in  a  great  house  on  the  hill ; 
and  I  guess  Mary'll  catch  it  for  letting  me  get 
lost." 

"  Where  is  Mary  now?  " 

"  I  don't  know  where  she  is.  She  sat  down  on 
a  rock  and  went  to  sleep.  I  was  looking  for  black- 
berries, and  when  I  wanted  to  find  Mary  again,  I 
couldn't.  I  have  been  walking  ever  so  long,  and 
I  can't  find  Mary,"  said  Charley,  beginning  to  look 
very  sad  again. 

"  Don't  cry  any  more,  and  I  will  help  you  find 
your  father's  house." 

Bertha  remembered  that  she  had  passed  a  large 
house  on  a  hill,  only  a  short  distance  back,  and 
taking  Charley's  hand,  she  led  him  to  the  road. 

It  was  a  hard  walk  for  little  Charley,  for  he  was 
so  tired  he  could  hardly  move  at  all ;  but  Bertha 
assisted  him  as  much  as  she  could,  and  at  last 
they  came  to  the  gateway  of  the  great  house. 

"  That's  my  father's  house,"  said  Charley,  just 
before  they  reached  the  gate. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     153 

"  You  can  find  your  way  now — can't  you  ?  " 
asked  Bertha. 

"  Yes,  but  I  want  you  to  come  up  and  see  my 
mother." 

"  I  think  I  will  not  go  any  further." 

"  Yes,  but  I  want  you  to  come  up  and  see  my 
mother;  and  you  must  come." 

"  I  am  very  tired,  Charley, — almost  as  tired  as 
you  are, — and  I  do  not  feel  like  walking  up  the 
hill." 

"  You  can  rest  in  my  house." 

"  I  think  I  will  not  go  up,  Charley." 

"  But  you  must  come.  I  can't  find  the  way  if 
you  don't,"  said  Charley,  tugging  at  Bertha's  hand 
with  a  zeal  which  would  permit  no  denial. 

"  If  I  must,  I  must,"  said  Bertha,  yielding  the 
point. 

"  I  want  to  show  you  my  new  rocking  horse. 
Father  sent  it  up  yesterday,  and  it  is  a  real  nice 
one." 

Charley  led  the  way  up  to  the  front  door  of  the 
house,  and  pulled  Bertha  in  after  him.  His 
mother,  who  had  been  terribly  worried  at  his  long 
absence,  greeted  him  in  the  entry  with  a  kiss,  and 
asked  him  where  the  nurse  was. 

Charley  told  his  story  in  his  childish  way,  and 


154  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

it  was  fully  confirmed  by  the  presence  of  Bertha, 
who  was  warmly  welcomed  by  the  grateful  lady. 

"  Mary  is  growing  very  remiss  of  late,  and  I 
must  discharge  her,"  said  Mrs.  Byron,  when  they 
were  seated  in  the  sitting  room.  "  It  isn't  safe  to 
trust  Charley  with  her.  The  dear  little  fellow 
may  get  into  the  river.  I  have  been  worrying  this 
half  hour  about  him." 

"  He  was  crying  bitterly  when  I  found  him," 
added  Bertha. 

"  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  take  so  much 
trouble." 

"  I  couldn't  leave  him  while  he  was  so  full  of 
grief." 

While  they  were  talking,  the  delinquent  nurse 
arrived,  very  much  alarmed  at  the  sudden  disap- 
pearance of  her  charge.  But  when  she  saw 
Charley,  she  was  greatly  relieved,  and  invented  a 
very  plausible  story  to  account  for  the  accident. 
The  story  disproved  itself,  without  any  help  from 
Charley  or  Bertha;  and  the  result  was,  that  her 
mistress,  provoked  by  her  falsehood  as  much  as  by 
her  neglect,  promptly  discharged  her. 

While  Mrs.  Byron  was  paying  the  girl,  Charley 
exhibited  his  new  rocking  horse,  and  other  treas- 
ures ;  but  Bertha  was  absorbed  by  a  new  idea,  she 
did  not  pay  much  attention  to  his  prattle. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      155 


CHAPTER  XII. 

IN  WHICH    BERTHA   BECOMES   A   GOVERNESS,   AND  RE- 
SIDES AT  BLUE  HILL. 

"  THERE,"  said  Mrs.  Byron,  as  she  joined  her 
little  son  on  the  piazza,  when  the  nurse  had  gone, 
"  that  is  the  fourth  person  I  have  had  to  take  care 
of  Charley.  Now  she  is  gone,  and  I  don't  know 
where  I  shall  get  another.  It  is  not  every  person 
that  I  am  willing  to  trust  to  take  care  of  my  little 
boy." 

"  It  must  be  very  trying  to  you,"  added  Bertha, 
thoughtfully. 

"  I  paid  her  ten  dollars  a  month  for  her  serv- 
ices :  but  I  tremble  to  think  of  the  dangers  which 
Charley  has  escaped  while  in  the  care  of  these 
negligent  servants." 

"  I  suppose  you  would  think  I  am  too  young  to 
take  care  of  Charley?"  said  Bertha,  while  her 
cheek  crimsoned,  and  her  heart  seemed  to  rise  up 
into  her  throat. 

"  You ! "  exclaimed  the  lady,  with  a  smile,  as 
she  glanced  at  Bertha,  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Yes,  madam ;  if  you  could  give  me  twelve  dol- 


156  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

ars  a  month,  I  should  like  to  obtain  the  situa- 
tion of  governess  of  the  child.  I  have  had  some 
experience  in  teaching  children." 

"  You.  astonish  me,  miss.  I  do  not  even  know 
your  name  yet." 

"  Bertha "  She  was  about  to  give  her  whole 

name,  but  the  thought  suddenly  occurred  to  her, 
that,  if  she  did  so,  her  application  would  at  once 
be  rejected;  and,  without  stopping  to  consider 
whether  it  was  right  or  wrong  to  give  a  false 
name,  she  added,  "  Bertha  Loring." 

No  sooner  had  she  given  this  name  than  she 
regretted  it;  but  conscious  that  she  had  no  evil 
intention  in  doing  so,  she  did  not  attempt  to  cor- 
rect the  error. 

"  Bertha  Loring,"  added  Mrs.  Byron.  "  How 
old  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  nearly  fourteen." 

"  But  you  said  you  had  had  some  experience  in 
teaching  children,"  said  the  lady,  rather  incredu- 
lously. 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  It  was  in  a  kind  of  mission 
school,  and  it  was  voluntary  teaching." 

"  Ah,  that,  indeed,"  mused  Mrs.  Byron.  "  You 
are  rather  young,  especially  for  the  salary  you 
ask." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      157 

"  I  have  a  sister  who  is  dependent  upon  me  for 
support,  and  I  must  do  something  by  which  I  can 
earn  about  three  dollars  a  week." 

"  Have  you  any  testimonials  of  character  or 
ability?" 

"  None,  ma'am ;  I  have  never  been  in  any  situ- 
ation yet." 

"  It  would  hardly  be  proper  for  me  to  place  my 
only  child  in  the  care  of  a  total  stranger." 

"  Very  true,  ma'am,"  sighed  Bertha ;  "  but  I 
have  none." 

"  But  I  like  your  appearance  and  manners  very 
much,  and  I  am  very  grateful  for  what  you  have 
done  for  Charley.  Perhaps  you  could  refer  me  to 
some  person  w^th  whom  you  are  acquainted." 

Bertha  was  about  to  mention  the  name  of  the 
clergyman  in  Whitestone,  whose  church  her  fath- 
er's family  had  fttended;  but  as  the  words  were 
upon  her  lips,  she  happened  to  remember  that  she 
had  not  given  her  real  name,  and  that  the  minister 
would  not  know  any  such  person  as  Bertha  Lor- 
ing. 

"  For  reasons  which  I  could  give,  if  necessary,  I 
would  rather  not  refer  to  any  of  my  former 
friends,"  said  Bertha. 

"  Your  former  friends?  "  repeated  the  lady,  who. 


158  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

by  this  time  had  begun  to  obtain  some  idea  of 
the  circumstances  of  the  applicant.  "  Are  they 
sot  your  friends  now." 

"  I  do  not  know,  ma'am,"  sighed  Bertha.  "  As 
I  have  no  references,  I  think  I  will  take  my 
leave." 

"  Don't  go  yet,  Miss  Loring.  I  assure  you  I 
feel  a  deep  interest  in  you,  and  only  a  necessary 
caution  prevents  me  from  engaging  you  at  once. 
You  must  perceive  that  your  situation  is  quite 
peculiar." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  know  that  it  is ;  and  therefore 
I  am  unwilling  to  trouble  you  any  longer." 

"You  have  evidently  been  well  educated;  and 
at  your  age  you  cannot  possibly  be  an  adventurer." 

Bertha  was  not  very  clear  what  the  lady  meant 
by  an  adventurer,  but  she  hastened  to  assure  her 
she  was  not  one. 

"  And  I  should  suppose  from  your  name  that 
you  belong  to  a  good  family." 

"  My  father  has  been  very  unfortunate,"  replied 
Bertha,  "  or  I  should  not  be  an  applicant  for  this 
situation." 

"  Where  is  your  father  now  ?  " 

"  He  is  in  New  York  city." 

"  Possibly  my  husband  knows  him/'  added  the 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      159 

lady.     "Loring?    Loring?"  she  continued,  mus- 
ing. 

"  I  don't  think  he  does,"  replied  Bertha.  "  But. 
ma'am,  my  father  does  not  know  that  I  am  trying 
to  earn  my  own  living  and  that  of  my  sister.  He 
has  very  recently  failed  in  business.  My  friends 
don't  know  that  I  am  an  applicant  for  such  a 
place;  and  for  reasons  of  my  own,  I  wrish  to  con- 
ceal my  movements,  at  least  for  the  present.  You 
will  excuse  me  from  answering  any  question  in 
regard  to  my  family." 

Poor  Bertha!    It  was  her  first  attempt  at  de-s 
ception  of  any  kind,  and  she  could  hardly  play 
the  part  she  had  chosen. 

"  I  think  I  perfectly  understand  your  position, 
and  as  Charley  seems  to  like  you  so  well,  I  shall 
engage  you  at  the  salary  you  named." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am,"  exclaimed  Bertha,  aston- 
ished at  the  decision  of  Mrs.  Byron.  "  You  are 
very  generous  to  take  me  without  testimonials  or 
reference;  but  I  assure  you  your  confidence  shall 
not  be  undeserved." 

"  I  am  quite  satisfied,  or  I  shouldn't  have  ven- 
tured to  engage  you  under  these  circumstances.' 
Here,  Charley;  how  would  you  like  this  young 
lady  to  take  care  of  you  ?  " 


160  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  O,  ever  so  much,  ma ! "  exclaimed  Charley, 
jumping  off  his  horse,  and  seizing  the  new  govern- 
ess by  the  hand. 

"  She  will  teach  you  to  read,  Charley,"  added 
his  mother. 

"  O,  goody !  I  want  to  be  able  to  read  my 
picture  books;  but  I  can  spell  cat  now;  c-a-t 
cat." 

"  'Till  you  learn,  I  will  read  them  to  you 
Charley,"  said  Bertha,  who  had  already  begun  to 
feel  a  strong  interest  in  her  young  charge. 

"  Have  you  any  taste  for  music,  Miss  Loring?  " 

"  I  can  play  and  sing  a  little,"  replied  Bertha, 
modestly. 

"  Come  and  let  me  hear  you  play  ? "  said 
Charley,  as  he  tugged  away  at  the  hand  of  Bertha, 
and  finally  dragged  her  into  the  parlor,  where  the 
piano  was  located. 

"  He  is  very  fond  of  music,"  remarked  Mrs.  By- 
ron, as  she  followed  them  into  the  parlor. 

Bertha  played  several  simple  pieces  for  the 
amusement  of  the  little  boy,  and  played  them  so 
well  that  the  mother  was  even  more  delighted  than 
the  child.  Then,  at  the  special  request  of  Charley, 
she  played  and  sang  "  Three  Blind  Mice,"  which 
suited  him  so  well,  that  he  called  for  more.  For 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      161 

an  hour  she  engaged  the  attention  of  both  her  au- 
ditors; and  then  the  heir  of  Blue  Hill,  as  the 
estate  of  Mr.  Byron  was  called,  clamored  for 
"  pickers,"  which,  rendered  into  the  vernacular, 
meant  pictures. 

Charley  produced  pencils,  paper,  and  a  slate, 
and  insisted  that  Bertha  should  "  make  a  house." 
She  had  early  developed  a  decided  taste  and 
talent  for  drawing,  and  up  to  the  commencement 
of  the  summer  vacation,  she  had  taken  lessons  of 
an  artist  whose  cottage  was  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Woodville.  Her  teacher  declared  that  she 
would  make  an  artist,  and  quite  a  number  of  her 
pencil  drawings  adorned,  the  walls  of  her  father's 
house.  In  the  extremity  of  her  want  and  sorrow, 
she  had  thought  of  applying  her  talent  to  a  prof- 
itable use,  and  she  had  not  yet  given  up  the  idea. 

She  took  the  pencil  which  Charley  brought,  and 
made  a  house  which  was  entirely  satisfactory. 
Then  she  made  men,  and  horses,  and  carts,  and 
other  objects  which  the  young  gentleman  called 
for,  so  that  she  soon  became  a  prodigy  in  his 
eyes,  and  of  course,  as  the  mother  saw  with  the 
child's  eyes,  she  was  equally  a  wonder  in  her  es- 
timation. 

When  Charley  began  to  grow  weary  of  pictures, 


162  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

tooth  of  them  were  well  rested  from  the  fatigue  of 
their  walk,  and  the  child  proposed  a  ramble  in 
the  garden,  where  Bertha  was  just  as  pleasing  and 
just  as  instructive  as  she  had  been  at  the  piano 
and  with  the  pencil. 

At  six  o'clock,  Mr.  Byron  came  home,  and  heard 
with  astonishment  the  change  which  had  been 
made  in  the  domestic  affairs  of  the  family.  Mas- 
ter Charley  had  considerable  to  say  about  his  new 
governess,  as  his  mother  had  already  taught  him 
to  call  her,  and  he  recommended  her  so  highly, 
that  the  father  was  well  satisfied  with  the  change. 

As  soon  as  she  had  an  opportunity,  she  wrote 
to  Ben,  informing  him  what  and  where  she  was, 
and  asking  him  to  send  her  trunk  to  her.  On 
the  following  day,  the  trunk  was  brought  down 
in  the  boat,  and  she  had  a  visit  from  Ben  and 
Noddy.  The  old  man  was  glad  to  see  her  so 
well  situated,  but  he  had  his  doubts  about  the 
change  of  name.  Noddy  jumped  and  capered  like 
an  antelope,  and  astonished  Charley  by  throwing 
back  somersets  and  forward  somersets,  and  by 
such  gyrations  as  the  little  fellow  had  never  seen 
before.  The  visit  was  a  pleasant  one  to  all  par- 
ties, and  Ben  and  Noddy  left  with  the  promise  to 
call  again  in  a  short  time. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      163 

While  Bertha  was  watching  the  boat  as  it  sped 
on  its  way  up  the  river,  she  heard  a  sharp  cry 
from  Charley,  and  on  turning,  saw  him  lying  on 
the  ground. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter,  Charley  ?  "  she  cried, 
lifting  him  up. 

"  I  bumped  my  head,  and  hurt  me,"  replied  he. 

Bertha  examined  the  injured  member,  and 
found  a  pretty  smart  bump  on  the  summit  of  his 
cranium,  which  she  washed  in  cold  water  from 
the  river,  and  rubbed  it  till  Charley  declared  it 
was  quite  well. 

"  How  did  you  do  it?  "  asked  she. 

"  I  was  trying  to  do  what  Noddy  did,  and  hit 
my  head  upon  a  stone." 

"You  mustn't  try  to  do  such  things  as  that.'* 

«  Noddy  did  it." 

"  Noddy  is  a  little  wild  boy.  I  have  told  him 
a  great  many  times  not  to  do  such  things.  It 
isn't  pretty,  and  you  must  not  try  to  do  so  again.'* 

"  I  should  like  to  do  what  Noddy  did,  and  I 
mean  to  try  it  again." 

"  Don't,  Charley ;  you  may  get  a  worse  bump 
than  you  did  this  time." 

"  I  don't  care  if  I  do;  if  Noddy  did  it,  I  can." 

But  before  the  forcible  argument  which  the 


164  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

governess  brought  forward,  Master  Charley  finally 
promised  not  to  break  his  head  in  vain  attempts 
to  do  what  was  neither  pretty  nor  proper  for  the 
heir  of  Blue  Hill  to  do. 

A  few  days  after  the  visit  of  the  boatman,  she 
received  a  letter  from  Richard,  which  had  been  for- 
warded to  her  from  Whitestone.  He  wrote  in  ex- 
cellent spirits,  and  said  he  had  obtained  a  situa- 
tion on  board  of  a  gentleman's  yacht,  and  was 
about  to  sail  for  Newport.  He  had  seen  his  father 
in  the  Tombs.  He  was  to  be  examined  on  the  fol- 
lowing day,  and  fully  expected  to  be  discharged. 
This  was  all  Richard  said  about  his  father.  It 
was  meagre  enough,  and  very  unsatisfactory  to 
Bertha.  She  had  not  the  money  to  pay  the  ex- 
pense of  a  visit  to  the  city,  or  she  would  have 
asked  leave  of  absence  for  a  day,  to  go  and  see 
him.  She  had  written  several  letters  to  him,  but 
had  not  yet  received  any  reply,  and  therefore  sup- 
posed they  did  not  reach  him. 

Bertha  soon  found  that  her  situation  was  not  a 
bed  of  roses.  Mrs.  Byron  was  not  an  angel.  Her 
temper  was  not  angelic,  and  the  governess  was 
sometimes  compelled  to  submit  to  harsh  and  un- 
merited rebuke,  couched  in  such  language  as  she 
had  never  heard  before. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      165 

The  hopeful  heir  of  Blue  Hill,  though  he  could 
spell  "  cat "  and  knew  that  Millard  Fillmore  was 
President  of  the  United  States,  was  not  yet  fit  to 
put  on  his  wings  and  become  a  cherub.  He  had 
some  of  his  mother's  temper,  and  a  great  deal  of 
his  own  obstinacy.  He  was  an  only  child,  and  as 
such  had  been  indulged,  as  far  as  indulgence  would 
go;  and  Bertha  found  that  she  was  expected  to 
lead,  not  to  govern  him.  If  Charley  wanted  to 
jump  into  the  river,  she  was  to  find  arguments  to 
convince  him  that  the  cold  water  was  uncomforta- 
ble, and  might  drown  him.  If  he  wanted  to  eat 
green  apples,  she  was  to  persuade  him  not  to  do 
so,  and  not  make  him  cry  by  taking  them  away 
from  him. 

One  day  he  took  a  notion  that  certain  unripe 
winter  pears  would  be  "good  to  take,''  and  had 
actually  bitten  one  of  them,  when  Bertha,  with 
as  little  force  as  was  needful,  took  it  from  him, 
and  threw  it  away.  Charley  set  up  a  howl  which 
made  the  ground  shake  under  him,  and  brought 
his  mother  from  the  house.  The  heir  of  Blue 
Hill  told  his  story,  and  Bertha  was  sharply 
scolded  for  crossing  the  dear  little  fellow. 

When  Mrs.  Byron  suggested  that  the  young  gen- 
tleman ought  to  commence  learning  his  letters, 


i66  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

the  governess  applied  herself  with  becoming  zeal 
to  the  task  of  teaching  him  those  mysterious 
characters.  For  ten  minutes  Charley  gave  his 
attention ;  then  he  wanted  her  to  read  a  story.  In 
vain  she  coaxed  him  to  learn  the  letters;  it  was 
plain  that  he  had  no  taste  for  the  heavy  work  of 
literature.  Day  after  day  she  attempted  to  fasten 
his  mind  upon  the  ABC,  but  with  no  better  suc- 
cess. She  resorted  to  all  the  expedients  she  could 
devise,  but  Charley  was  as  obstinate  as  a  mule. 

These  were  some  of  her  trials — trials  with 
Master  Charley;  trials  with  his  mother.  Bertha 
faithfully  persevered,  and  endured  every  thing 
without  a  murmur.  But  her  charge  was  some- 
times a  little  lamb,  as  pretty  and  as  cunning  as 
child  could  be;  and  there  were  hours  of  sunshine 
— oases  in  the  desert  of  trial  and  care. 

When  Bertha  had  been  at  Blue  Hill  about  a 
week,  Mr.  Byron  gave  a  large  dinner  party,  and 
the  house  was  filled  with  all  the  fine  folks  of  the 
surrounding  country.  Mrs.  Byron  was  very  much 
afraid  Charley  would  get  into  his  "  tantrums  "  in 
the  presence  of  the  company,  and  thus  convince 
them  that  he  was  not  an  angel  in  spite  of  his 
velvet  tunic  and  his  lace-frilled  trousers.  During 
the  dinner  hour,  therefore, — a  period  in  which 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     167 

Charley  was  peculiarly  liable  to  be  attacked  by 
unaccountable  humors, — Bertha  was  required  to 
keep  him  in  the  nursery,  and  also  to  keep  him  in 
excellent  temper. 

By  dint  of  extraordinary  tact  and  perseverance, 
she  succeeded  in  accomplishing  both  these  ends, 
and  congratulated  herself  upon  the  hope  that  she 
should  thus  escape  the  unwelcome  infliction  of 
seeing  any  of  the  visitors.  It  was  quite  probable 
that  among  them  were  many  friends  of  her  father, 
and  the  fear  of  being  recognized,  and  her  little 
deception  exposed,  was  terrible.  The  dinner  hour 
was  a  fashionable  one,  and  before  the  party  rose 
from  the  table  Charley's  bed  time  had  arrived,  and 
she  was  on  the  point  of  disposing  of  him  for  the 
night,  when  Mrs.  Byron  entered  the  nursery. 

"  The  company  have  just  gone  to  the  parlor,, 
and  they  all  insist  upon  seeing  Charley,"  said 
she. 

Bertha  was  appalled ;  but  it  was  useless  to  offer 
any  objections,  and  she  proceeded  to  prepare  her 
charge  for  the  ordeal. 

"  I  suppose  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  appear 
with  him,"  said  she,  in  an  indifferent  tone,  which 
but  ill  concealed  her  anxiety. 

"  Certainly  it  is,"  replied  Mrs.  Byron,  sharply. 


i68  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  You  must  go  with  him,  and  be  sure  that  you 
make  him  appear  to  the  best  advantage.  You 
can  tell  him  some  cunning  little  things  to  say  be- 
fore he  goes  down.  Let  him  come  into  the  room 
with  his  hat  on,  and  his  little  cane  in  his  hand." 

"  Wouldn't  you  excuse  me  from  going  with 
him  ?  "  pleaded  Bertha. 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  I  will  go  with  him  to  the  door,  and  tell  him 
what  to  say,"  added  Bertha. 

"  I  thought  you  were  brought  up  in  a  good 
family,"  sneered  Mrs.  Byron.  "  You  surely  are 
not  afraid  to  appear  in  company." 

"  Not  afraid  to,  ma'am,  but  I  do  not  like  to 
do  so." 

"  Whether  you  like  it  or  not,  you  must  do  so. 
Now  be  sure  that  Charley  appears  well,  and  shows 
himself  to  the  best  advantage,"  said  Mrs.  Byron, 
as  she  sailed  out  of  the  room. 

There  was  no  alternative,  and  Bertha  prepared 
for  the  trial.  Charley's  plumed  hat  was  put  upon 
his  head,  his  cane  placed  in  his  hand,  and  he  was 
duly  marched  into  the  presence  of  the  company. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      169 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN    WHICH    BEETHA    LOSES    HER    SITUATION,    AFTER 
MASTER  CHARLEY   HAD   MADE  A  SENSATION. 

MASTER  CHARLEY  strutted  into  the  parlor,  cane 
in  hand,  and  was  warmly  greeted  by  the  guests, 
who,  as  a  matter  of  politeness,  if  nothing  else, 
were  in  duty  bound  to  admire  his  curly  head  and 
his  cunning  manners.  For  a  time,  therefore, 
Bertha  escaped  observation,  and  the  heir  of  Blue 
Hill  was  the  centre  of  attraction. 

"  I  can  spell  cat ;  c-a-t,  cat,"  roared  Charley ; 
"  and  I  can  spell  dog ;  h-o-g,  dog :  and  Millard 
Fillmore  is  President  of  the  United  States." 

"  Now,  who  is  Governor  of  New  York, 
Charley?"  whispered  Bertha. 

"  O,  I  know ! "  and  Charley  scratched  his  head 
and  disarranged  the  curls,  to  the  horror  of  his 
mother.  "  O,  I  know  who  is  Governor  of  New 
York:  it  is  Captain  Kyd;  and  he  buried  lots  of 
money  round  here,  somewhere." 

The  company  laughed  heartily  at  this  sally,  and 
thought  it  was  very  cunning;  but  Bertha  blushed 


170  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

at  the  carelessness  of  her  pupil,  and  Mrs.  Byron 
looked  daggers  at  the  governess.  The  exhibition 
of  Charley's  quick  points  promised  to  be  a  failure; 
and  Bertha  was  sadly  perplexed,  for  she  felt  that 
she  was  not  giving  satisfaction. 

But  there  was  still  one  more  hope  left.  She  had 
taught  Charley  to  play  "  Days  of  Absence  "  with 
one  finger  on  the  piano,  and  she  thought  he  might 
possibly  make  a  sensation  with  this,  if  he  had  not 
forgotten  it,  as  he  had  almost  every  thing  else. 
She  placed  him  upon  the  stool,  and  putting  the 
finger  in  the  right  place,  the  young  gentleman 
went  through  this  performance  in  a  very  credita- 
ble manner,  very  much  to  the  surprise  even  of  his 
mother,  who  had  not  heard  him  do  it.  The  guests 
clapped  their  hands,  and  expressed  their  admira- 
tion in  no  measured  terms,  which  so  excited  the 
vanity  of  the  child,  that  he  immediately  proceeded 
to  perform  another  astounding  feat,  which  was 
not  put  down  in  the  programme.  This  was  no 
less  than  throwing  a  back  somerset,  in  imitation 
of  Noddy  Newman. 

If  the  experiment  had  not  been  a  failure,  no 
doubt  it  would  have  been  received  with  rapturous 
applause,  as  every  thing  he  did  was  received ;  but 
Charley  was  not  quite  equal  to  a  back  somerset, 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       171 

and  struck  the  floor  upon  the  top  of  h&  head. 
The  new  sensation  was  a  decidedly  unpleasant  one 
to  the  heir  of  Blue  Hill,  and  was  not  at  all  agree- 
able to  the  company.  It  was  followed  by  a  yell 
that  would  have  been  creditable  to  a  tiger  in  the 
jungles  of  Hindostan.  Bertha  ran  to  his  assist- 
ance, picked  him  up,  and  rubbed  the  bump  which 
had  been  so  suddenly  developed.  It  was  the  bump 
of  self-esteem  unnaturally  enlarged,  which  was 
entirely  unnecessary,  for  Charley  had  a  super- 
abundance before  the  accident. 

The  sympathizing  guests  gathered  around  the 
wounded  hero,  and  endeavored  to  console  him ;  but 
he  bawled  incessantly,  and  refused  to  be  com- 
forted. Mrs.  Byron  was  shocked,  and  declared 
that  the  mishap  had  resulted  from  the  careless 
governess,  introducing  the  boy  to  bad  company. 
But  whatever  the  cause,  and  whatever  the  efforts 
used  to  induce  Master  Charley  to  moderate  his 
excessive  grief,  he  w*pt  and  roared  as  one  without 
hope. 

"  Take  him  to  t'^  nursery,"  said  Mrs.  Byron,  in 
a  whisper  to  Bertha. 

"  Come  up  stairs  with  me,  Charley,  and  I  will 
make  a  house  for  you,"  said  Bertha. 

"  I  won't  &  up  stairs.     I  don't  want  any  of 


172  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

your  old  pictures,"  bawled  the  discomfited  hero. 

"  Come  up  with  me,  and  I  will  sing  '  Three 
Blind  Mice  '  to  you." 

"  I  won't." 

"  We  will  play  horse,  then." 

"  I  don't  want  to  play  horse.  I  am  going  to 
stay  here  as  long  as  I  please." 

Bertha  was  tempted  to  pick  him  up,  and  carry 
him  out  of  the  room;  but  this  would  be  violation 
of  all  rule  and  precedent.  In  vain  she  coaxed 
him ;  in  vain  she  promised  to  play  every  thing  and 
sing  every  thing.  Charley  had  lost  his  temper, 
and  nothing  could  move  him.  A  spoiled  child  on 
exhibition,  especially  when  he  performs  after  the 
manner  of  Master  Charley  on  the  present  oc- 
casion, is  disgusting  to  all  except  his  parents. 
Mrs.  Byron  was  not  satisfied  with  the  conduct  of 
her  hopeful;  but  instead  of  regarding  it  as  the 
result  of  a  want  of  discipline,  she  attributed  it 
all  to  the  mismanagement  of  the  governess. 

Bertha  would  have  brought  the  scene  to  a  con- 
clusion, however  unpleasant,  without  delay,  if  she 
had  dared  to  do  so;  but  as  Master  Charley  must 
have  his  own  way,  no  matter  who  suffered,  or  what 
consequences  followed,  he  was  not  taken  from  the 
room  by  the  strong  hand  of  authority.  He 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant. 


bawled  till  his  throat  must  have  been  sorer  than 
his  head,  and  the  company  were  tired  of  the  music. 

At  last,  a  gentleman,  despairing  of  any  relief, 
took  out  his  watch,  and  offered  to  show  the  works 
to  the  disconsolate  heir.  This  was  a  rare  treat, 
and  Charley  had  the  grace  to  yield  the  point,  and 
submit  to  a  treaty  of  peace,  or  at  least  to  a  susi- 
pension  of  hostilities. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Grant?  "  said  a  gentle- 
man who  had  been  observing  Bertha  with  close 
attention  for  some  time,  as  he  stepped,  forward 
and  extended  his  hand. 

She  took  it,  blushed  deeply,  and  stammered  out 
a  reply,  for  Mrs.  Byron  was  standing  by  her  side. 

"  How  is  your  father  ?  "  asked  the  gentleman. 

"He  is  not  very  well.  I  have  not  seen  him 
lately." 

"  I  have  frequently  met  you  at  Woodville  ;  per- 
haps you  do  not  remember  me." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  do." 

"  I  have  been  at  the  south  for  some  months,  and 
returned  yesterday.  Do  you  still  reside  at  Wood' 
fillet" 

"No,  sir." 

"  You  are  visiting  your  friends  here,  I  suppose. 
It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  attempt  to  manage  that 


174  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

child,"  he  added,  in  a  low  tone,  as  Mrs.  Byron's 
attention  was  called  to  a  rupture  between  Charley 
and  his  new  friend,  whose  watch  the  dear  little 
fellow  insisted  upon  picking  to  pieces. 

"  He  is  very  hard  to  manage,"  replied  Bertha. 

"  A  spoiled  child,"  added  the  gentleman,  as  Mrs. 
Byron  returned  to  the  spot. 

"  My  governess  is  wholly  incompetent,"  said 
she  angrily,  for  she  had  heard  the  last  remark. 
"  Charley  is  a  good  boy,  and,  when  properly 
managed,  is  as  gentle  as  a  lamb,  Mr.  Gray." 

"  He  appears  to  be,"  added  the  gentleman, 
satirically.  "  He  evidently  has  a  sweet  temper, 
and  in  due  time  will  make  a  great  and  good  man." 

Mrs.  Byron  did  not  understand  these  remarks, 
but  took  them  as  a  compliment,  and  her  anger  was 
partially  appeased. 

"  He  has  had  enough  to  try  the  temper  of  a 
saint.  He  had  nearly  died  with  the  cholera  three 
days  ago  from  eating  green  apples,  of  which  the 
governess  permitted  him  to  partake." 

Mr.  Gray  looked  at  Bertha,  and  evidently  did 
not  believe  this  statement,  for  the  sudden  coloring 
of  Bertha's  cheek  seemed  to  refute  the  falsehood. 

"  Do  I  understand  you  that  Miss  Grant  is  the 
child's  governess  ?  " 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      175 

"  Miss  Loring,"  added  Mrs.  Byron. 

"  But  this  is  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Grant,  of 
Woodville,"  said  the  gentleman,  who  was  per- 
plexed by  the  name  and  the  relation  which  she 
bore  to  the  family. 

•'  My  father  has  been  unfortunate,  and  met  with 
some  heavy  reverses,"  stammered  Bertha.  "  I  am 
engaged  as  a  governess  here." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Mr.  Gray,  who  was  now 
greatly  embarrassed.  "  As  I  said  I  have  recently 
come  home,  after  an  absence  of  some  months,  and 
had  not  heard  of  the  unpleasant  position  of  your 
father's  affairs." 

"Miss  Grant?"  said  the  lady  of  the  house. 
"  Miss  Loring,  you  can  retire,"  she  added  in  a  loud 
tone. 

Bertha  was  too  glad  to  obey  this  haughty  com- 
mand to  object  even  to  the  tone  in  which  it  was 
uttered.  But  when  she  had  gone,  Mrs.  Byron 
heard  more  about  Mr.  Grant  and  his  affairs;  for 
there  were  several  present  who  were  acquainted 
with  him,  and  all  had  read  the  history  of  his 
alleged  fall  in  the  papers.  She  learned  that  the 
father  of  her  governess  was  even  then  a  prisoner 
in  the  Tombs. 

"  To  think  that  I  have  placed  my  only  child  in 
the  care  of  such  a  person !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Byron. 


176  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  Miss  Bertha  Grant  is  a  very  excellent  young 
lady,"  Mr.  Gray  ventured  to  suggest. 

"She  is  an  impostor!"  said  Mrs.  Byron,  who 
seemed  to  feel  that  the  governess  was  the  cause 
of  all  her  mortal  trials. 

"  At  Woodville  she  was  regarded  as  a  young 
lady  of  splendid  abilities,  and  her  mission  to  the 
poor  children  of  Dunk's  Hollow  was  the  admira- 
tion of  all  the  neighborhood,"  added  Mr.  Gray. 
"  I  know  of  no  person  to  whom  I  would  more 
willingly  intrust  my  children." 

"  She  is  an  impostor ! "  persisted  Mrs.  Byron. 
"  That  is  enough  to  condemn  her ; "  and  leaving 
Charley  to  entertain  the  company  in  his  fascinat- 
ing way,  she  flounced  out  of  the  room,  and  has- 
tened to  the  nursery,  to  which  Bertha  had  already 
retreated. 

"  Miss  Loring,  you  have  deceived  and  disap- 
pointed me,"  she  began,  still  flushed  with  anger. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  deceived  you,  Mrs.  Byron,  and  I 
hope  you  will  forgive  me,  for  I  meant  no  harm  to 
you." 

"  You  are  an  impostor ! " 

"  No,  ma'am,  I  am  not.  I  am  just  what  I  rep- 
resented myself  to  be." 

"  Your  father  is  in  prison  for  fraud." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      177 

"  That  is  his  misfortune,  but  it  is  not  my  fault, 
replied  Bertha,  indignant  at  this  brutal  treat- 
ment. 

"Misfortune?  Yes,  that  is  what  they  always 
call  it  when  a  man  commits  a  crime." 

"  My  father  has  committed  no  crime." 

"  You  came  here  under  a  false  name.  You  have 
imposed  upon  me.  I  don't  know  what  you  are, 
even  now.  At  any  rate,  you  are  not  a  fit  person 
to  watch  over  the  innocent  life  of  my  only  child. 
I  tremble  for  him  even  now,  after  you  have  been 
here  only  a  week.  Of  course  you  understand  me." 

"  Your  words  are  plain  enough." 

"  I  am  not  willing  that  you  should  remain  here 
another  night,"  added  the  angry  woman.  "  I  have 
trusted  you  too  long." 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  abused  your  confidence." 
said  Bertha,  overwhelmed  by  this  outburst  of 
abuse. 

"  I  have  not  counted  my  spoons  since  you  came." 

"  Madam,  that  is  an  insult  that  no  lady  would 
put  upon  an  unprotected  girl.  I  will  leave  your 
house  immediately,"  answered  Bertha,  almost 
stunned  by  this  unfeeling  charge. 

"  As  quick  as  possible,  if  you  please,"  sneered 
the  lady.  "  I  dare  not  lose  sight  of  you." 


178  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

Bertha  stepped  into  the  adjoining  room,  and  in 
a  few  moments  was  dressed  ready  to  leave  the 
house. 

"  I  should  like  to  look  into  your  trunk  before 
you  go,"  said  Mrs.  Bj'ron,  to  whose  malice  there 
seemed  to  be  no  limit. 

"  You  cannot,  madam,"  replied  Bertha,  firmly, 
but  respectfully. 

"  But  I  think  I  shall.  Since  I  have  found  out 
what  you  are,  I  have  a  great  many  doubts.  Give 
me  the  key  of  your  trunk." 

"  No,  madam,  I  will  not.  I  will  submit  to  no 
further  insult." 

"  I  will  see  if  you  won't." 

"  If  you  proceed  any  further,  madam,  I  will  ap- 
peal to  Mr.  Gray  for  protection.  He  was  my 
father's  friend,  and  I  hope  he  is  mine.  I  will 
leave  your  house  at  once,  and  send  for  my  trunk 
as  soon  as  I  can." 

"  Not  till  your  trunk  has  been  examined." 

"  Very  well,  madam ;  I  will  appeal  to  Mr. 
Gray; "  and  she  pnssed  out  of  the  room. 

"  Stop,  Miss  Loring." 

Bertha  paused  in  the  hall. 

"  If  there  is  nothing  in  your  trunk  but  what 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     1795 

belongs  to  you,  you  need  not  fear  to  have  it 
examined. 

"  There  is  nothing  but  my  property  in  it ;  but 
I  will  not  submit  to  such  an  insult." 

"  You  can  go;  and  if  Mr.  Byron  thinks  it  neces- 
sary to  search  the  trunk,  he  will  do  so." 

"  You  have  forgoten  to  pay  me  my  salary, 
madam,"  said  Bertha. 

"  Dare  you  ask  me  for  payment,  after  what  has? 
happened?  " 

"  1  think  I  am  justly  entitled  to  what  I  have- 
earned." 

"  I  don't  think  so,  and  you  can  go." 

"  But  I  want  my  wages,  madam." 

"  I  do  not  owe  you  any  thing.  You  imposed 
upon  me,  and  you  have  done  Charley  more  harm, 
than  good.  He  never  behaved  as  he  did  this  even- 
ing before  since  he  was  born." 

"  I  think  I  have  done  my  duty  faithfully ;  at 
least,  I  have  tried  to  do  it.  I  have  not  money 
enough  to  pay  my  fare  to  the  city,  and  I  hope  you 
will  not  keep  back  my  wages." 

"  I  shall  pay  you  nothing." 

"  I  shall  be  very  sorry  to  appeal  to  Mr.  Gray  for 
assistance,  but  I  shall  have  to  ask  him  to  lend 
me  a  few  dollars." 


180  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  You  impudent  hussy !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Byron, 
in  a  great  rage,  as  she  again  found  herself  in  a 
difficult  position. 

Mr.  Gray  was  a  wealthy  and  influential  person, 
and  she  would  have  given  any  sum  rather  than 
permit  him  to  know  any  thing  about  the  matter. 
Bertha  said  no  more,  but  walked  down  the  stairs, 
intending  to  call  Mr.  Gray  from  the  parlor,  and 
tell  him  the  whole  truth.  When  she  reached  the 
lower  hall,  she  heard  the  screams  of  Master 
Charley,  who  had  evidently  had  a  falling  out  with 
the  owner  of  the  watch. 

"  I  want  Miss  Loring !  "  screamed  the  little  ruf- 
tfan. 

She  was  about  to  approach  the  open  door  of  the 
parlor,  when  Mrs.  Byron  rushed  down  the  stairs, 
and  in  more  gentle  tones  than  she  had  heard  her 
use  since  the  first  day  she  came  into  the  house, 
called  her  by  name.  She  paused,  and  the  lady 
joined  her. 

"  Here  is  three  dollars.  I  believe  that  is  what 
I  owe  you — is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madam ;  thank  you." 

"  Peter  has  a  horse  and  wagon  at  the  door,  and 
lie  will  carry  your  trunk  for  you." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am :  you  are  very  kind,"  said 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      181 

Bertha,  surprised  at  the  sudden  change  in  the 
manner  of  the  lady. 

The  powerful  name  of  Mr.  Gray  had  wrought 
the  change,  with,  perhaps,  a  consciousness  that  she 
had  exceeded  the  bounds  of  humanity  and  decency. 

The  lady  stepped  into  the  parlor  and  closed  the 
door  behind  her,  that  no  one  might  witness  the 
departure  of  the  discharged  governess.  Bertha 
found  in  Peter  a  ready  friend,  and  in  a  few 
moments  she  was  seated  in  the  wagon  by  his  side, 
with  her  trunk  in  front  of  her. 

"  Where  shall  I  drive  you,  Miss  Loring?  "  asked 
Peter,  as  they  proceeded  down  the  hill  to  the  road. 

"  I  hardly  know,  Peter,"  replied  Bertha,  sadly.. 
"  I  have  no  place  to  go." 

"  No  place  to  go !  "  exclaimed  he.  "  What  are 
you  leaving  at  this  hour  of  night  for,  then  ?  " 

"  I  was  obliged  to  leave." 

"  Ah,  I  see  how  it  is.  I  was  afraid  that  brat 
would  be  the  death  of  you;  and  when  I  heard 
him  screeching  in  the  parlor,  I  thought  there 
would  be  a  row  for  somebody.  Then  you  have 
been  discharged?  " 

"  I  have." 

"  Turned  out  of  the  house  at  this  hour  of  night, 
with  no  place  to  go!  That  woman  has  no  more 
soul  than  a  brickbat." 


.182  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  Is  there  a  hotel  in  the  village,  Peter?  " 

"  There  is ;  but  it  is  no  place  for  a  young  girl 
like  you.  If  you  will  go  to  my  poor  cottage,  you 
•shall  have  a  poor  man's  welcome." 

"  Thank  you,  Peter.  I  shall  be  very  grateful 
to  you  if  you  will  let  me  remain  with  you  till 
morning." 

"  I  will,  with  all  my  heart." 

Peter  was  head  groom  at  Blue  Hill,  and  his 
house  was  only  a  short  distance  from  the  residence 
«of  Mr.  Byron.  Peter's  wife  received  her  kindly, 
^nd  conducted  her  to  the  little  spare  chamber 
which  was  appropriated  to  her  use. 

The  groom  evidently  understood  the  temper  of 
the  mistress  of  Blue  Hill  well  enough  to  compre- 
hend the  nature  of  the  difficulty  which  had  driven 
Bertha  from  her  place,  and  neither  he  nor  his  wife 
asked  any  questions.  Although  it  was  quite  early 
in  the  evening,  the  poor  girl  preferred  to  retire, 
and  her  hostess  offered  no  objection. 

The  events  of  the  evening  had  been  so  rapid  and 
unexpected,  that  Bertha  was  entirely  unprepared 
for  the  shock  which  had  so  suddenly  fallen  upon 
her.  Again  she  was  alone  and  friendless  in  the 
world,  and  she  could  hardly  expect  another  lucky 
incident  would  supply  her  with  a  home,  as  had 


The  Mission  of  Bertna  Grant.      183 

been  the  case  only  a  week  before.  But  she  was  a 
little  better  off  than  she  had  been  then,  for  she 
had  three  dollars  in  her  purse,  with  which  to  pay 
her  fare  to  the  city. 

Before  she  went  to  sleep  she  committed  herself 
to  the  care  of  her  heavenly  Father,  and  felt  confi- 
dent that  he  would  guide  her  steps,  and  protect 
her  in  the  midst  of  the  trials  which  were  before 
her. 

At  breakfast  the  next  morning,  when  Bertha  an- 
nounced her  purpose  of  going  to  the  city,  Peter 
offered  to  drive  her  down  to  the  ferry,  where  she 
could  cross  the  river,  and  take  the  cars  on  the- 
other  side.  She  gratefully  accepted  his  offer,  and 
as  soon  as  he  could  get  the  horse,  he  returned 
from  the  stable. 

In  a  short  time  Bertha  was  embarked  on  the 
ferry,  with  many  thanks  to  Peter  and  his  wife  for 
their  kindness,  which,  she  assured  him,  should 
never  be  forgotten.  A  ride  of  less  than  an  hour 
brought  her  to  the  great  city,  where  every  body 
seemed  to  be  rushing  to  and  fro,  as  though  the 
salvation  of  the  world  depended  upon  the  celerity 
of  their  movements.  None  of  them  took  any 
notice  of  poor  Bertha,  and  she  was  more  alone  in 
the  midst  of  the  multitude  than  she  had  been* 
amidst  the  rural  scenes  she  had  just  left. 


184  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

She  knew  not  what  to  do,  or  where  to  go;  and 
having  left  her  trunk  in  charge  of  the  baggage 
master  at  the  railroad  station,  she  wandered  down 
Broadway. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      185 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

IN  WHICH  BERTHA  VISITS  HER  FATHER^  OFFICE,,  AND 
ANSWERS  AN  ADVERTISEMENT  IN  THE  HERALD. 

BERTHA,  knew  enough  of  the  perils  of  the  great 
city  to  make  her  tremble,  when  she  considered  that 
she  was  alone  and  unprotected.  The  prospect  be- 
fore her  of  finding  suitable  employment  was  ex- 
ceedingly dark  and  hopeless.  Though  she  had 
often  been  in  the  city,  and  knew  the  principal 
localities,  eve^y  thing  seemed  new  and  strange  to 
her;  the  houses  and  the  streets  wore  a  different 
aspect,  for  she  was  not  now  the  daughter  of  the 
rich  broker,  but  the  child  of  want,  seeking  the 
>  opportunity  to  fulfil  what  had  become  the  great 
mission  of  her  existence. 

Though  her  first  object  was  to  obtain  a  situa- 
tion where  she  might  procure  the  means  of  sub- 
sistence, this  was  not  the  mission  of  Bertha  Grant- 
She  had  in  her  mind,  clearly  and  hopefully  de- 
fined, a  higher  and  holier  purpose.  As  at  Wood- 
ville,  in  the  midst  of  luxury  and  plenty,  she  did 


1 86  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

not  live  only  to  enjoy  them;  she  now  felt  that  she 
had  been  sent  into  the  world  with  a  great  work 
given  her  to  perform  An  earnest  and  true  man, 
from  his  pulpit  in  Whitestone,  had  given  her  the 
idea,  and  she  had  pondered  and  cherished  it  till  it 
became  a  principle. 

She  believed  she  had  been  created  to  do  good 
to  her  fellow-beings,  and  with  this  noble  thought 
in  her  heart  she  had  gone  upon  her  mission  to 
the  poor  children  of  Dunk's  Hollow.  He  who 
spoke  in  Whitestone  the  words  and  the  spirit  of 
Him  of  Nazareth  spoke  through  Bertha  to  the 
friendless  and  despised  little  ones  who  gathered 
around  her  at  the  Glen.  His  words  and  her  words, 
spoken  in  faith  and  hope,  and  embodied  in  good 
and  generous  deeds,  were  to  yield  their  hundred 
fold;  and  though  Bertha  had  been  withdrawn 
from  her  labors,  the  seed  which  she  had  sown  were 
still  growing.  Though  some  might  perish,  others 
would  live,  and  thrive,  and  mature. 

In  the  same  faith  and  hope  which  bad  led  her 
to  gather  together  the  children  of  Dunk's  Hollow, 
she  was  now  laboring  to  save  her  father  and  her 
brother — her  father  from  suffering  and  sorrow, 
her  brother  from  himself.  This  was  the  present 
mission  of  Bertha  Grant ;  and  it  was  a  part  of  the 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      187 

great  purpose  of  her  existence.  While  she  was  in 
want  she  could  do  nothing.  The  body  must  be 
fed  and  clothed,  and  if  she  could  obtain  employ- 
ment that  would  relieve  her  from  absolute  want, 
she  would  be  in  condition  to  prosecute  the  greater 
work  of  the  hour. 

Full  cf  these  thoughts  she  walked  down  Broad- 
way, with  nothing  to  encourage  her,  and  without 
any  plan  or  expectation  to  guide  her  doubtful  foot- 
steps. Slowly  she  threaded  her  way  through  the 
dense  crowd  that  always  throngs  the  street,  till  she 
came  to  the  Park.  All  the  way  she  had  looked 
in  vain  lor  any  suggestion  that  might  aid  her  in 
accomplishing  her  purpose.  In  a  few  hours  more 
the  night  would  come.  She  dared  not  go  to  a 
hotel  in  the  great  city,  and  she  trembled  to  think 
of  being  friendless  and  homeless  in  those  streets 
where  villains  choose  darkness  for  deeds  of  sin 
and  violence. 

The  thought  filled  her  with  terror,  but  it  in- 
spired her  with  new  resolution.  There  was  some- 
thing to  be  done,  and  the  hours  for  doing  it  were 
few  and  short.  Yet  where  should  she  go?  She 
could  not  answer  this  question,  and  involuntarily 
she  continued  her  walk  down  Broadway,  till  she 
came  to  Wall  Street.  She  was  now  in  the  vicinity 


1 88  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

of  her  father's  office,  and  she  determined  to  go 
look  at  it,  if  nothing  more. 

It  was  a  familiar  locality,  for  she  had  often 
been  to  see  her  father  during  business  hours.  To 
her  astonishment  she  found  the  office  open,  and 
her  father's  clerk  in  his  usual  place  at  the  desk. 
This  looked  hopeful  to  her,  and  she  entered,  with 
a  beating  heart,  to  inquire  about  her  father. 

"  Miss  Grant !  "  exclaimed  the  clerk,  as  she  came 
in. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  any  thing  about  my  father?  " 
asked  Bertha,  as  she  seated  herself  in  the  chair 
which  the  clerk  offered  her. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  cannot  give  you 
any  good  news  from  him,"  required  Mr.  Sherwood, 
gloomily. 

"Where  is  he  now?" 

"  He  is  where  he  was,"  said  the  clerk,  with  an 
embarrassed  air. 

"  In  the  prison,  you  mean." 

"Yes,  in  the  Tombs;  but  I  am  as  certain  as 
I  am  of  my  own  existence,  that  he  will  come  out 
without  the  stain  of  dishonor  upon  him." 

"  I  feel,  I  know,  that  he  has  been  guilty  of  no 
crime,"  added  Bertha,  earnestly. 

"  I  suppose  you  understand  the  circumstances 
under  which  he  was  arrested?" 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      189 

"  I  do  not." 

"  It  is  a  rather  complicated  affair.  He  was  ar- 
rested on  the  charge  of  fraud." 

"  So  I  have  understood." 

"  But  he  is  no  more  guilty  of  fraud  than  I  am ; 
and  if  we  can  only  get  a  chance  to  let  the  truth 
out,  we  shall  make  the  matter  plain  to  the  whole 
world.  Grayle  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole  af- 
fair. He  is  your  father's  enemy." 

"  He  is  a  very  rude  and  hard  man,"  said  Bertha, 
recalling  the  incidents  of  her  departure  from 
Woodville. 

"  Three  or  four  years  ago  your  father  spoiled  a 
dishonest  speculation  in  which  Grayle  and  others 
were  engaged;  this  made  him  an  enemy,  though 
they  still  kept  on  good  terms  together.  Some 
months  since  Mr.  Grant  borrowed  fifty  thousand 
dollars  of  him,  giving  him  certain  English  securi- 
ties as  collateral." 

"  I  really  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said 
Bertha. 

"  The  securities  were  certain  papers,  by  which 
Brace  Brothers,  a  large  English  banking  firm,  sup- 
posed to  be  very  wealthy,  promised  to  pay  certain 
sums  of  money,"  continued  the  clerk,  smiling  at 
the  perplexed  look  of  Bertha.  "  In  other  words, 


190  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

Brace  Brothers  promised  to  pay  your  father  (01 
the  holder  of  the  paper)  twelve  thousand  pounds." 

"  I  understand  that." 

"  This  money  was  to  be  drawn  in  bills  of  ex- 
change, or  orders.  Now,  when  your  father  wanted 
a  large  sum  for  immediate  use,  he  gave  them  to 
Mr.  Grayle  as  security,  because  the  bills  of  ex- 
change were  not  to  be  drawn  till  September.  The 
very  next  steamer  that  came  in  brought  intelli- 
gence of  the  suspension  of  Brace  Brothers — that 
is,  they  had  stopped  payment — did  not  pay  their 
notes  and  other  obligations." 

"  I  understand  it  very  well." 

"  Well,  Grayle  declared  that  your  father  knew 
these  securities  were  worthless  when  he  gave  them 
to  him,  and  immediately  accused  him  of  fraud. 
He  came  into  the  office  very  much  excited,  and 
talked  to  your  father  as  no  gentleman  ever  talked 
to  another.  Your  father  resented  the  charge, 
which  made  Grayle  all  the  more  angry  and  ex- 
cited." 

"  But  how  could  he  accuse  my  father  of  fraud, 
when  all  this  happened  before  it  was  known  that 
Brace  Brothers  had  suspended  ?  " 

"  There  was  some  reason,"  said  the  clerk,  after 
a  pause.  "  One  of  Grayle's  friends  had  a  letter, 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       191 

which  had  come  before  the  transaction,  in  which 
Brace  Brothers  mentioned  their  financial  embar- 
rassments; but  I  am  certain  your  father  had  no 
suspicion  that  they  were  weak.  In  fact,"  said 
Mr.  Sherwood,  dropping  his  voice  to  a  very  low 
tone  "  I  have  a  letter,  which  I  carry  in  my  pocket 
since  your  father  was  arrested,  that  will  set  the 
matter  all  right.  A  friend  of  mine  gave  it  to  me. 
Grayle  would  give  a  thousand  dollars  for  this 
letter,"  added  the  clerk,  slapping  his  hand  upon 
his  breast  pocket,  with  a  triumphant  air. 

"  I  hope  you  will  save  him,"  replied  Bertha. 

"  I  know  I  shall.  Our  own  correspondence 
with  Brace  Brothers  shows  that  they  believed 
themselves  to  be  sound  and  good.  But  this  letter 
will  save  him,  if  nothing  else  will.  All  we  want  is 
to  get  the  matter  before  the  court.  Grayle  keeps 
getting  it  put  off,  for  if  the  truth  comes  out  it  will 
ruin  him." 

"  He  has  secured  Woodville,"  added  Bertha. 

"  That  was  the  only  weak  thing  your  father 
did.  Grayle  went  so  far  that  your  father  was 
alarmed,  and  attempted  to  save  his  honor  at  the 
expense  of  his  property.  He  gave  Grayle  a  bill  of 
sale  of  Woodville  and  all  it  contained,  to  keep  him 
quiet  for  few  days,  till  he  could  raise  the  monej 


Rich  and  Humble,  or 

to  pay  him.  The  villain  then  arrested  your  father 
and  took  possession  of  Woodvii^." 

"  Tiie  paper  said  my  father  was  going  to  leave 
the  country." 

"  All  nonsense :  He  had  no  more  idea  of  leav- 
ing the  country  than  I  had.  Grayle  watched  him 
all  the  time;  and  when  he  went  over  to  the  Brit- 
ish steamer  to  see  a  friend,  who  was  going  to 
Europe,  he  had  him  arrested,  and  then  circulated 
the  story  which  you  read  in  the  newspaper. 
Every  body  believes  just  now  that  Mr.  Grant  is  a 
common  swindler;  but  we  will  set  that  matter 
right  before  long,"  added  the  clerk,  confidently. 

"  I  am  sure  I  hope  so.     Could  I  see  my  father?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not.  Your  brother  got  in,  and 
saw  him ;  but  since  then,  orders  have  been  given  to 
admit  no  one  but  his  counsel.  They  wouldn't  let 
me  in.  Grayle  is  playing  a  deep  game,  and  has 
probably  used  his  influence  to  prevent  your  father 
from  seeing  his  friends.  He  is  a  great  villain." 

Mr.  Sherwood's  opinions  were  decided,  and  were 
very  emphatically  delivered.  They  were  full  of 
hope  and  encouragement  to  Bertha,  and  she  re- 
joiced that  she  had  been  led  to  visit  the  office. 
But,  although  she  was  comforted  and  assured  by 
the  intelligence  she  had  gained,  there  was  nothing 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      193 

in  it  which  promised  to  supply  her  immediate 
wants.  She  was  still  homeless  and  friendless,  for 
she  had  not  the  courage  to  place  herself  under  the 
protection  of  Mr.  Sherwood.  He  was  a  young 
man,  and  had  been  with  her  father  but  a  few 
months.  At  least,  she  was  not  prepared  to  adopt 
this  course  until  all  other  resources  had  failed. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  facts  she  had  just 
learned  to  change  her  purpose.  Her  father  might 
get  out  of  prison,  but  he  was  a  ruined  man.  Mr. 
Sherwood  might  be  mistaken  in  his  estimate  of 
the  value  of  the  latter  in  his  possesion.  The 
duty  of  providing  for  herself  and  Fanny  seemed  to 
be  just  as  imperative  as  ever. 

Though  she  was  not  yet  willing  to  ask  the  pro- 
tection of  her  father's  clerk,  the  time  might  come 
within  a  few  hours  when  she  might  be  glad  to  do 
so.  He  was  ignorant  of  her  real  situation,  and 
supposed  she  was  comfortably  located  in  the  house 
of  some  friend  or  relative. 

"  Where  shall  I  find  you,  Mr.  Sherwood,  in  case 
I  should  wish  to  see  you  again?  "  asked  Bertha. 

"  You  will  find  me  here  at  all  hours  of  the  day 
and  night.  I  have  not  been  out  of  the  office  for 
more  than  half  an  hour  at  once  since  your  father 
was  arrested.  I  sleep  on  that  sofa.  Grayle  is 


194  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

an  unscrupulous  wretch,  and  I  don't  think  he 
would  hesitate  to  take  any  papers  in  the  office 
which  would  serve  his  purpose;  or  even  to  break 
in,  if  he  has  the  courage  to  do  so." 

"  What  a  terrible  man  he  must  be ! "  added 
Bertha. 

**  He  offered  me  a  situation  in  his  office  the  day 
after  your  father  was  arrested.  I  think  he  would 
be  willing  to  buy  me  up  at  any  price." 

"  I  am  sure  my  father  will  be  grateful  to  you." 

"  Your  father  always  used  me  well,  and  I  will 
not  desert  him  if  all  the  rest  of  the  world  does." 

"  I  am  very  thankful  that  he  has  so  good  a 
friend." 

"  O,  I  only  wish  to  do  as  I  would  be  done  by. 
If  you  should  want  any  thing,  Miss  Grant,  you 
can  call  upon  me.  There  was  a  small  sum  of 
money  in  the  office  when  your  father  was  arrested 
though  I  suppose  it  will  all  come  in  use  to  pay  the 
lawyers,  and  other  expenses." 

"Thank  you;  I  don't  need  any  thing  at  pres- 
ent," replied  Bertha,  who  would  not  have  touched 
a  dollar  that  could  be  serviceable  in  effecting  her 
father's  release. 

At  this  point  an  elderly  gentleman  entered  the 
office,  and  began  to  make  inquiries  of  Mr.  Sher- 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     195 

wood  concerning  her  father.  He  looked  earnestly 
at  Bertha  for  a  moment,  and  appeared  to  be  very 
much  excited.  She  thought  his  countenance 
seemed  familiar  to  her,  though  she  was  confident 
she  had  never  seen  him  before.  The  clerk,  per- 
haps thinking  it  would  not  be  pleasant  for  her  to 
hear  her  father's  situation  discussed  by  a  stranger, 
conducted  her  into  the  private  office,  and  gave  her 
the  morning  paper — the  Herald. 

Bertha  wondered  who  the  gentleman  was,  as  she 
glanced  over  the  columns  of  the  paper.  His  face 
was  strangely  familiar,  yet  she  was  positive  she 
had  never  seen  him.  But  her  attention  was  soon 
withdrawn  from  him  by  an  advertisement  in  the 
paper,  which,  caught  her  eye.  An  old  gentleman, 
an  invalid,  advertised  for  a  well-educated  young 
lady,  to  read  to  him,  and  act  as  amanuensis. 

"  If  I  could  only  get  that  place ! "  said  she  to 
herself,  as  she  wrote  down  on  a  slip  of  paper  the 
address  mentioned  in  the  advertisement. 

There  would  be  hundreds  of  applicants  for  the 
situation ;  but  she  could  try  to  obtain  it,  and  she 
resolved  to  do  so  without  a  moment's  delay.  As 
she  passed  through  the  other  office,  where  the 
stranger  was  engaged  in  earnest  conversation  with 
the  clerk,  she  said  that  she  would  call  again  some 


196  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

other  time,  and  hastened  down  the  stairs  to  the 
street. 

The  house  of  the  invalid  gentleman  was  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  city,  and  she  got  into  a  stage 
in  Broadway,  lest  some  other  applicant  should 
obtain  the  place  before  her.  Without  much  diffi- 
culty she  found  the  house.  It  was  a  very  large 
and  elegant  establishment',  and  on  the  door  was 
the  name  of  "  F.  Presby."  With  a  trembling  hand, 
she  rang  the  bell,  which  was  answered  by  a  man 
in  a  white  jacket,  who  brusquely  demanded  her 
business. 

"  I  wish  to  see  Mr.  Presby,"  replied  Bertha. 

"Which  Mr.  Presby?" 

"  The  old  gentleman — the  invalid." 

"  Another  person  to  answer  the  advertisement," 
said  a  female  voice  in  the  entry,  beyond  the  inner 
door.  "  Tell  her  he  is  not  at  home,  John." 

"  Not  at  home,  miss,"  repeated  the  man  in  the 
white  jacket. 

"  When  will  he  be  at  home?  "  asked  Bertha. 

"  He  has  gone  out  of  town,  and  will  not  be  in 
again  until  next  week." 

"  But  he  advertised  for  a  young  lady." 

"  Yes,  miss,  he  did ;  but,  you  see,  the  old  gentle- 
man ii  crazy,  and  don't  know  what  he  wants.  At 
any  rate,  he  don't  want  any  young  lady." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      197 

Poor  Bertha's  heart  sank  within  her,  as  the  nice 
place  which  she  had  hoped  to  obtain  proved  to  be 
a  mere  shadow,  and  she  stood  gazing  at  the  serv- 
ant with  a  look  of  despair. 

"Not  at  home,  miss,"  repeated  the  man,  par- 
tially closing  the  door,  as  a  hint  for  her  to  leave. 

She  turned  and  descended  the  steps,  the  man 
closing  the  door  with  a  slam.  But  she  had 
scarcely  reached  the  sidewalk,  before  she  heard  the 
door  open  again.  She  turned  to  discover  the 
cause,  and  saw  a  tall,  pale  old  gentleman,  with  a 
dressing  gown  on,  standing  at  the  door. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  see  me?"  asked  he,  in  feeble 
tones. 

"  I  called  to  see  Mr.  Presby,"  replied  Bertha, 
a  ray  of  hope  again  lighting  up  her  soul. 

"  Come  in,  if  you  please." 

But  the  servant  had  told  her  that  old  Mr. 
Presby  was  crazy,  and  did  not  want  a  young  lady 
to  read  to  him.  The  thought  of  throwing  herself 
into  the  company  of  a  lunatic  was  not  pleasing; 
but  the  sad,  pale  old  gentleman  looked  so  mild  and 
inoffensive  that  she  concluded  there  must  be  some 
mistake,  and  she  followed  him  into  the  house. 


198  Rich  and  Humble,  or 


CHAPTER  XV. 

IN  WHICH  BERTHA  FINDS  A  NEW  HOME,  AND  IS 
MYSTIFIED  BY  STRANGE  THINGS. 

THE  old  gentleman  conducted  Bertha  up  the 
stairs  to  the  large  front  room  which  was  fitted  up 
as  a  library.  It  was  furnished  in  a  plain,  old- 
fashioned  manner,  and  was  well  supplied  with 
sofas,  lounges,  and  easy  chairs.  As  they  entered 
this  room,  the  old  gentleman  closed  the  door  be- 
hind them,  and  offered  her  a  chair. 

Bertha  almost  wished  she  had  not  come  in, 
when  Mr.  Presby  closed  the  door,  for  being  alone 
with  an  insane  man  was  the  most  terrible  thing 
she  could  imagine.  She  did  not  at  first  dare  to 
take  the  chair  to  which  the  old  gentleman  beck- 
oned her,  but  lingered  near  the  door,  ready  to 
make  her  escape  when  she  should  discover  the  first 
symptom  of  insanity  in  the  invalid. 

"  Be  seated,  if  you  please,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  stammered  Bertha,  still  re- 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     199 

taining  her  place  near  the  door,  and  gazing  at  the 
invalid  with  the  deepest  anxiety. 

But  then  it  occurred  to  her  that  the  rude  serv- 
vant  had  told  her  Mr.  Presby  was  out  of  town, 
which  was  certainly  a  falsehood ;  and  perhaps  the 
statement  that  he  was  crazy  was  equally  false. 
She  had  never  seen  an  insane  person;  but  Mr. 
Presby  did  not  look  any  different  from  any  other 
person.  He  was  very  sad  and  pale,  and  seemed  to 
be  harmless. 

"  Won't  you  take  a  seat  ?  "  asked  he  again,  in  a 
tone  so  mild  and  gentle  that  she  was  almost  con- 
vinced he  was  not  crazy. 

She  had  heard  that  insane  people  are  sometimes 
quite  rational,  and  only  have  fits  of  madness  at 
times.  This  might  be  the  case  with  Mr.  Presby, 
and  he  might,  at  any  moment,  become  a  raving 
maniac.  But  she  took  the  chair,  though  she  trem- 
bled as  she  did  so,  and  kept  one  eye  upon  the 
door  all  the  time. 

"You  wished  to  see  me,"  continued  the  old 
gentleman,  as  he  seated  himself  near  her — much 
nearer  than  she  wished  to  have  him  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Bertha,  looking  at  him  full 
in  the  eye,  that  she  might  discover  the  first  symp- 


2oo  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

torn  of  wildness  in  season  to  make  her  escape  be- 
fore he  could  proceed  to  violence. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,"  added  Mr.  Presby,  with  a 
smile,  as  he  evidently  noticed  her  agitation. 

"  I — I'm — not  alarmed,"  stammered  Bertha,  in 
doubt  whether  she  should  apply  for  the  situation. 

"  You  are,  I  presume,  an  applicant  for  the  place 
which  I  advertised  in  the  morning  paper." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  called  to  see  about  that;  but — 
I — I  don't  know  as  the  place  will  suit  me,"  an- 
swered she,  still  very  much  embarrassed  at  the 
thought  of  becoming  reader  and  amanuensis  for  a 
crazy  man. 

"  Well,  my  child,  I  don't  wish  you  to  take  the 
situation  if  you  think  it  will  not  suit  you,"  added 
Mr.  Presby,  with  a  fatherly  smile.  "  What  is  your 
name?  " 

"  Bertha  Grant,  sir." 

"  Why  do  you  think  the  place  would  not  suit 
you?" 

"  Because — I,  really,  sir " 

"  You  seem  to  have  changed  your  mind  very 
suddenly." 

"  The  servant  told  me  you  were  out  of 
town " 

"  And  out  of  my  head,"  said  the  invalid,  with  a 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     201 

smile.  "  I  begin  to  understand  why  you  think  the 
situation  will  not  suit  you.  The  servant  told  you 
that  Mr.  Presby  was  crazy,  and  did  not  want  any 
young  lady." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Bertha,  frankly. 

"  I  am  not  crazy.  I  thank  God  that  amid  the 
heavy  misfortunes  he  has  visited  upon  me,  I  am 
still  iermitted  to  enjoy  my  reason  unimpaired. 
No,  <  hild,  I  am  not  insane ;  I  have  never  been  so." 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  hear  it !  "  exclaimed  Bertha. 

But  the  glowing  expression  with  which  she  re- 
ceived this  assurance  quickly  gave  place  to  a  sad 
look  again,  as  she  considered  that  the  invalid 
might  not  be  aware  of  his  own  infirmity. 

"  You  have  some  doubts,"  added  he,  as  he  ob- 
served the  change  upon  her  face.  "  It  is  sad  for 
me  to  have  to  defend  myself  from  such  a  charge. 
You  know  that  John  told  you  one  falsehood." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  and  I  am  satisfied,"  replied  Bertha : 
"  but  it  seems  very  strange  to  me." 

"  If  you  would  like  the  situation,  I  think  I  can 
convince  you  that  I  am  not  crazy." 

"  I  would  like  it  very  much,  sir,  if  you  would 
please  to  give  me  the  place." 

"Perhaps  you  will  not  suit  me,"  added  Mr. 
Presby,  with  a  smile. 


202  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  will  try  to  do  so,  sir." 

"  You  are  very  young." 

"  I  shall  be  fourteen  in  a  short  time." 

"  Younger  than  I  thought  you  were ;  it  will  be 
very  hard  for  a  young  girl  like  you  to  be  shut  op 
with  an  old  man  like  me." 

"  I  shall  not  mind  that,  sir." 

"And  there  will  be  a  great  many  annovances 
and  trials  to  endure." 

"  I  will  try  to  be  faithful  and  patient." 

"  I  suppose  there  have  been  a  dozen  applicants 
at  the  door  for  the  place  this  forenoon,  but  you 
are  the  first  that  I  have  seen.  They  were  all  sent 
away,  as  you  were.  I  should  not  have  seen  you 
if  I  had  not  happened  to  overhear  the  conversa- 
tion between  you  and  John  in  the  entry." 

"  How  very  strange !  "  said  Bertha,  not  able  to 
comprehend  this  singular  state  of  things. 

"  You  will  understand  it  soon  enough.  I  like 
your  appearance,  young  as  you  are ;  and  as  I  may 
not  see  another  applicant,  I  am  the  more  desirous 
of  engaging  you,  if  you  will  answer  my  pnrpose. 
I  presume  you  have  been  well  educated,  or  you 
would  not  have  applied  for  the  place." 

Bertha  briefly  stated  the  history  of  her  educa- 
tion, which  seemed  to  be  satisfactory  to  Mr. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     203 

Presby.  He  then  questioned  her  in  regard  to  her 
family,  and  without  telling  any  more  than  was 
necessary,  she  informed  him  in  regard  to  her  past 
life.  He  was  not  inquisitive,  and  she  passed  the 
examination  without  informing  him  what  her 
father's  first  name  was,  or  where  he  had  resided. 

"  Now,  Miss  Grant,  I  should  like  to  hear  you 
read.  You  may  begin  with  the  first  article  in  the 
Post,"  continued  Mr.  Presby. 

He  then  handed  her  Kirk  White's  poems,  and 
she  read  a  couple  of  pages. 

"You  read  very  well  indeed  for  one  so  young, 
and  you  appear  to  understand  what  you  read. 
Now  I  will  dictate  a  letter  for  you  to  write,  and  if 
your  penmanship  is  plain  and  distinct,  you  will 
satisfy  me  in  every  respect." 

Mr.  Presby  dictated  to  Bertha  a  letter  of  about 
a  page  in  length.  Her  taste  and  skill  in  drawing 
had  materially  improved  her  writing,  and  she 
wrote  a  beautiful  hand,  much  larger  and  plainer 
than  fashionably  educated  young  ladies  usually 
write. 

"  That  is  admirable !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Presby,  as 
she  handed  him  the  sheet.  "  It  is  as  plain  as 
print.  I  commend  your  hand  to  the  book-keepers 
down  town.  I  can  read  that  writing." 


JO4  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  am  very  glad  it  suits  you,  sir,"  said  Bertha, 
delighted  with  the  success  of  her  examination. 

"  You  have  spelled  all  the  words  right,  and 
the  letter  is  neat  and  well  arranged.  I  suppose 
you  know  something  about  arithmetic  and  geogra- 
phy?" 

"Yes,  sir;  I  am  very  willing  to  be  examined." 

"  No,  I  will  not  trouble  you  any  farther.  If  the 
place  will  suit  you,  it  is  yours." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

Bertha  was  quite  sure  it  would  suit  her,  if  Mr. 
Presby  was  not  insane;  and  she  was  pretty  well 
satisfied  now  that  he  was  not. 

"  You  have  not  spoken  of  the  salary,  sir,"  sug- 
gested Bertha,  who  had  some  doubts  on  this  sub- 
ject. 

"  You  may  suit  yourself  about  that,  Miss 
Grant,"  replied  Mr.  Presby,  with  a  smile. 
"  Money  is  the  least  of  my  cares  in  this  world." 

"  If  you  thought  four  dollars  a  week  was  not 
too  much,"  said  she,  after  some  hesitation. 

"  I  will  give  you  five  with  pleasure,"  added  Mr. 
Presby.  "  It  is  of  no  consequence  what  I  pay,  if 
you  answer  my  purpose." 

"  You  are  very  kind  and  very  generous,  sir;  and 
I  will  do  the  best  I  can  to  please  you." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      205 

"  That  is  all  I  require ;  and  you  need  not  come 
in  the  morning  till  ten  o'clock." 

Ten  o'clock !  Then  she  had  no  home,  after  all, 
and  she  must  find  a  place  to  board  somewhere  in 
the  vicinity.  The  five  dollars  a  week  seemed  to 
melt  away  all  at  once,  for  it  would  take  three  dol- 
lars a  week  to  pay  her  board,  and  there  was  only 
two  left  to  pay  Fanny's  board,  and  nothing  for 
clothes  and  other  expenses. 

"Where  do  you  live?"  asked  Mr.  Presby.  "I 
suppose  you  will  want  to  go  home  before  it  is  very 
dark  at  night." 

"  I  have  no  home,"  answered  Bertha,  sadly. 

"  No  home ;  Poor  child !  Then  your  parents 
are  dead?  " 

She  did  not  dare  to  tell  him  that  her  father  was 
in  prison ;  so  she  made  no  reply. 

"  But  you  shall  have  a  home  here,"  continued 
Mr.  Presby,  rising  and  opening  a  door  which  led 
into  a  small  chamber  over  the  front  entry.  "  You 
shall  have  this  room,  and  take  your  meals  with 
me." 

"  Thank  you,  sir ;  I  shall  never  be  able  to  repay 
you  for  your  kindness." 

"  Poor  child !  This  is  the  happiest  day  I  have 
known  for  a  long  time.  I  thank  the  Lord  for 


2o6  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

Bending  you  to  me,  for  we  shall  be  a  blessing  to 
each  other." 

Bertha  could  not  help  crying,  the  old  gentleman 
was  so  tender  and  so  kind.  She  was  sure  now 
that  he  could  not  be  crazy ;  and  she  wondered  more 
than  ever  at  the  strange  conduct  of  John,  and  the 
female  whose  voice  she  had  heard  in  the  entry. 

She  looked  into  the  chamber,  and  found  it  was 
nicely  furnished,  and  had  a  very  pleasant  aspect. 
With  the  devout  old  gentleman  she  thanked  God 
for  conducting  her  to  this  new  home.  She  felt 
Mr.  Presby  would  not  turn  her  out  of  the  house, 
even  if  he  should  find  out  that  he  father  was  a 
prisoner  in  the  Tombs. 

"  Poor  child,"  said  Mr.  Presby,  which  seemed 
to  be  growing  into  a  favorite  expression  with  him. 
"  You  said  your  name  was " 

"  Bertha  Grant,  sir." 

"  Bertha ;  I  shall  call  you  Bertha,  for  you  are 
only  a  child  now,  and  I  mean  to  be  a  father  to 
you,  if  you  are  a  good  girl,  as  I  am  sure  you  will 
be.  Poor  child !  no  home,  and  no  friends." 

The  old  man  walked  slowly  up  and  down  the 
room,  as  he  uttered  these  words,  and  seemed  to 
be  thinking  of  something. 

u  I  wish  I  had  a  better  home  than  this  for  you, 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     207 

poor  child,"  said  Mr.  Presby,  as  he  stopped  in 
front  of  the  chair  in  which  she  was  sitting. 

"  I  am  sure  I  could  not  ask  a  better  home,"  re- 
plied Bertha. 

"  Poor  child !  It  is  hearts  that  make  home,  not 
fine  rooms,  rich  carpets,  and  costly  furniture," 
added  Mr.  Presby,  with  a  deep  sigh,  as  he  shook 
his  head,  and  resumed  his  walk.  "  Hearts,  not 
rooms  and  furniture,"  he  murmured  several  times. 

"  I  could  ask  no  kinder  heart  than  yours  to 
warm  my  home,"  said  Bertha,  pitying  the  old  man, 
he  was  so  sad  and  sorrowful. 

"  Poor  child !  I  love  you  already,"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Presby,  as  he  paused  by  her  side,  bent  over 
and  kissed  her  on  the  forehead,  while  a  great  tear 
dropped  from  his  sunken  eye  upon  her  brow. 

Bertha  thought  the  old  gentleman  acted  very 
strangely.  There  was  a  mystery  connected  with 
him  which  she  could  not  penetrate.  The  conduct 
of  John,  and  the  female  who  had  spoken,  added 
to  the  mystery,  rather  than  assisted  in  its  solu- 
tion. It  was  evident  that  they  had  prevented 
several  applicants  for  the  situation  she  had  ob- 
tained from  seeing  the  invalid,  and  had  attempted 
to  prevent  her  from  doing  so.  Why  they  should 
act  in  this  manner  was  unaccountable  to  her;  but 


208  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

she  had  no  desire  to  pry  into  matters  which  did 
not  concern  her. 

"  This  shall  be  your  home,  my  child,"  said  Mr. 
Presby,  pausing  again  before  her  chair,  and  look- 
ing tenderly  upon  her. 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  You  fixed  my  wages  before 
you  knew  that  I  had  no  other  home.  You  will 
wish  to  change  the  sum  now." 

"  No,  child,  no ! "  answered  Mr.  Presby,  impa- 
tiently. "  Now  do  not  say  any  thing  more  about 
money.  It  has  been  the  bane  of  my  life.  I  do 
not  like  the  sound  of  the  word.  You  shall  have 
five  dollars  a  week,  or  ten,  or  any  other  sum  you 
desire,  only  let  me  have  one  true  friend  in  the 
wide  world,  and  I  care  not  for  all  the  gold  in  the 
universe." 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,"  said  Bertha,  deeply  moved  by 
the  earnestness  of  the  old  gentleman;  for  as  he 
spoke,  the  tears  coursed  down  his  pale,  wrinkled 
cheek,  and  his  soul  seemed  to  be  filled  with  an- 
guish. "  I  would  not  have  mentioned  the  subject 
again,  if  it  had  not  been  a  matter  of  great  conse- 
quence to  me.  I  have  a  sister  in  the  country, 
whose  board  I  must  pay,  and  I  only  wish  to  earn 
money  enough  to  support  her." 

"  I  knew  that  one  so  young  could  not  love 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      209 

money.  It  has  been  a  curse  to  me.  God  has 
punished  me  by  making  me  rich.  I  am  worth  at 
least  half  a  million  of  dollars.  I  own  houses  and 
lands,  stocks,  bonds  and  mortgages;  I  have  the 
notes  of  rich  men  in  my  safe,  and  I  have  over  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars  in  the  banks;  but  I 
would  give  all  I  have  in  the  world,  every  dollar, 
for  a  poor  cottage  in  the  country,  if  I  could  have 
with  it  the  respect  and  affection  of  my — of  my — of 
those  whom  Heaven  sent  to  bless  my  declining 
years,  and  smooth  my  pathway  down  to  the 
grave." 

The  old  man  dropped  into  his  chair,  and  wept 
as  though  his  heart  would  break.  Bertha  tried  to 
comfort  him.  She  brushed  back  the  long,  white 
locks  from  his  forehead,  and  kissed  his  wrinkled 
brow.  Gentle-hearted  as  she  was,  she  could  not 
help  weeping  with  him. 

"  Poor  child !  "  sobbed  Mr.  Presby.  "  You  must 
not  love  me :  if  you  do,  others  will  hate  you." 

"  I  wish  I  could  do  something  to  make  you 
happy,"  replied  Bertha. 

"  No ;  they  will  hate  you,  if  you  do." 

"Who  will  hate  me?" 

The  old  man  looked  at  her  in  silence  for  a  mo- 
ment. 


2io  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  dare  not  tell  you,"  said  he.  "  I  am  a  gretit 
sufferer.  God  has  sorely  afflicted  me;  but  I  sup- 
pose I  deserve  it.  I  try  to  be  patient  and  resigned 
to  my  lot.  It  is  hard,  very  hard." 

Mr.  Presby  wiped  his  eyes,  and  after  a  struggle, 
calmed  his  strong  emotion. 

"  Come,  Bertha,  you  shall  read  to  me  now,"  he 
added. 

"What  shall  I  read?"  asked  she. 

"  You  shall  select  something  yourself." 

She  took  the  Bible,  and  read  the  twenty-third 
Psalm,  and  then  a  portion  of  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      211 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

IN  WHICH  BERTHA  LISTENS  TO  THE  STORY  OP  A 
FAMILY    QUARREL. 

MR.  PRESBY  was  comforted  by  the  passages 
which  Bertha  read,  and  perhaps  the  sympathy  she 
extended  to  the  suffering  invalid  was  hardly  less 
soothing  than  the  words  of  the  Scripture.  Though 
she  had  gathered  some  idea  of  the  nature  of  her 
patron's  troubles  from  the  conversation  she  had 
had  with  him,  yet  she  was  still  ignorant  of  his 
relations  with  the  other  occupants  of  the  house. 
She  comprehended  that  his  children  were  unkind 
and  ungrateful  to  him,  and  this  seemed  so  un- 
natural and  terrible  to  her,  that  she  pitied  the  old 
gentleman  from  the  depths  of  her  soul. 

After  she  had  finished  reading  the  Bible,  Mr. 
Presby  remained  silent  and  thoughtful  for  a  long 
time.  He  seemed  to  be  meditating  upon  the  pas- 
sages read,  and  she  did  not  disturb  him;  but  she 
could  not  help  calling  to  mind  the  statement  of 
John  that  he  was  insane.  His  conduct  was  cer- 
tainly very  singular;  but  if  his  children,  those  who 
should  have  loved  him,  who  should  have  comforted 
him  and  humored  his  weakness, — if  they  had 
turned  against  him,  it  would  be  quite  enough  to 
explain  even  more  strange  behavior  than  he  had 
yet  exhibited. 

He  rose  from  his  easy  chair,  and  paced  the 


212  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

room,  as  he  had  done  before ;  but  he  was  calm,  and 
appeared  to  be  more  resigned  to  his  misfortunes. 
He  did  not  talk  to  himself,  as  he  had  done;  and 
whether  he  was  insane  or  not,  Bertha  had  ceased 
to  be  afraid  of  him,  and  even  felt  some  confidence 
that  she  could  manage  him  if  he  should  have  a 
paroxysm. 

"  Poor  child !  "  said  he,  at  last,  as  he  paused  in 
his  walk.  "  I  am  old  and  thoughtless :  you  hare 
no  home,  and  I  suppose  you  have  no  clothing. 
Come,  we  will  go  out  and  buy  some  for  you." 

"  I  have  plenty  of  clothing,  sir.  My  trunk  is  at 
the  railroad  station,"  replied  Bertha. 

"  We  will  go  and  get  it,  then.  The  carriage 
comes  to  take  me  out  to  ride  about  this  time  every 
day.  You  shall  go  with  me,  and  we  will  get  your 
trunk." 

Mr.  Presby  took  off  his  dressing  gown,  and,  re- 
tiring to  his  chamber  in  the  rear  of  the  library, 
prepared  himself  for  the  ride.  Bertha  put  on  her 
hat  and  shawl  again,  and  in  a  few  moments  both 
were  ready.  Before  they  left,  Mr.  Presby  gathered 
up  some  account  books  and  papers  that  were  on 
his  desk,  and  placed  them  in  a  small  iron  safe  in 
one  corner  of  the  room,  which  he  locked,  and  put 
the  key  in  his  pocket. 

The  carriage  was  at  the  door,  and  Mr.  Presby 
led  the  way  down  stairs.  John  was  in  the  entry; 
but  he  was  very  obsequious  this  time,  and  bowed 
low  as  he  opened  the  doors  for  them. 

"  Keep  your  eyes  wide  open,  miss,  or  the  old 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      213 

man  will  knock  your  brains  out  when  he  has  the 
fit,"  he  whispered  in  Bertha's  ear,  as  she  passed 
him. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  O,  Mr.  Presby  is  stark,  staring  mad ! "  he  re-, 
plied,  earnestly.  "  He  will  take  your  life  before 
you  have  been  with  him  three  days." 

Bertha's  old  fears  assailed  her  again  for  a  mo- 
ment; but  she  could  not  believe,  if  Mr.  Presby 
were  such  a  dangerous  person,  that  his  friends 
would  permit  him  to  ride  about  the  city  without 
any  attendant.  They  could  certainly  have  sent 
him  to  the  Insane  Asylum,  for  his  family  seemed 
to  have  no  tender  regard  for  him  which  would 
restrain  them  from  such  a  course. 

The  carriage  was  driven  to  the  station,  and 
Bertha  procured  her  trunk.  It  was  placed  in  the 
little  room  adjoining  the  library,  and  then  they 
were  driven  down  town.  Mr.  Presby  visited  sev- 
eral insurance  offices,  and  other  places  of  business, 
where  he  was  treated  with  respect  and  consider- 
ation by  all  whom  he  met.  Bertha  entered  several 
of  the  offices  with  him,  and  heard  him  talk  about 
matters  that  were  beyond  her  comprehension ;  but, 
very  clearly,  no  one  seemed  to  be  of  John's  opin- 
ion, that  Mr.  Presby  was  "  stark,  staring  mad." 

On  their  return,  at  three  o'clock,  dinner  was 
served  in  the  library.  The  table  was  prepared  by 
a  colored  girl,  who  waited  upon  them,  and  re- 
moved the  things  when  the  meal  was  ended. 

"Sylvia,  is  Mr.  Presby — Edward — at  home?" 


214  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

said  the  invalid  to  the  girl,  as  she  was  leaving  the 
room  with  the  dishes. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Has  he  dined?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Tell  him  I  wish  to  see  him  at  his  earliest  con- 
venience." 

"  I  will,  sir." 

Bertha,  noticed  that  Mr.  Presby's  lips  quivered 
as  he  spoke  to  the  servant;  and  as  soon  as  she 
had  gone,  he  seated  himself  in  his  chair,  and  ap- 
peared to  be  much  agitated.  In  half  an  hour,  dur- 
ing which  time  the  old  gentleman  was  silent  and 
thoughtful,  Edward  Presby  entered  the  room.  He 
was  a  man  of  thirty-five,  elegantly  dressed,  and  in 
whom  an  experienced  observer  would  at  once  have 
detected  what  is  called  "  a  man  of  the  world  " — 
a  man  who  lives  for  its  pleasures  alone,  ignoring 
its  cares  and  responsibilities. 

"  How  do  you  do  to-day,  father?  "  said  Edward, 
as  he  entered  the  room,  and  cast  a  searching 
glance  at  Bertha. 

"  I  am  as  well  as  usual,"  replied  the  old  man, 
coldly. 

"  You  sent  for  me,  father?  " 

"  I  did.    John  must  be  discharged." 

Mr.  Presby  spoke  these  words  with  firmness, 
but  his  lip  quivered,  and  his  frame  was  slightly 
convulsed.  It  had  evidently  cost  him  a  great  ef- 
fort to  utter  them. 

"  John — discharged?  "  repeated  Edward  Presby, 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      215 

"  He  must  be  discharged,"  added  the  father. 

"  My  wife  would  never  consent  to  it.  What  has 
he  done  now?" 

Mr.  Presby  briefly  explained  the  events  of  the 
morning;  that  John  had  refused  to  admit  those 
who  answered  his  advertisement;  that  he  had  told 
Bertha  the  "  old  man  "  was  crazy. 

"  A  mere  pleasantry,  father,"  replied  Edward. 
"  Probably  John  didn't  know  any  thing  about  the 
advertisement." 

"  Perhaps  not.  Does  he  believe  that  I  am  in- 
sane?" 

"  Of  course  not,"  laughed  the  son. 

"  Will  you  discharge  him?  " 

"  I  couldn't  think  of  such  a  thing.  John  is  the 
most  useful  person  in  the  house." 

"  Edward,  I  am  in  earnest.  John  must  go,  or  I 
shall." 

"  Come,  father,  you  are  out  of  humor.  Have 
you  lost  any  money  to-day?  " 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,  Edward,"  replied 
Mr.  Presby,  trembling  with  emotion. 

"  I  am  sure  I  haven't,"  added  the  son-,  as  he 
withdrew  from  the  room. 

The  invalid  went  to  his  desk  and  wrote  a  few 
lines,  which  he  enclosed  in  an  envelope.  Having 
written  the  direction  upon  it,  he  handed  it  to 
Bertha,  and  requested  her  to  ride  down  to  Wall 
Street  in  a  stage,  and  deliver  it  to  the  person  for 
whom  it  was  intended. 

"  I  would  not  ask  you  to  do  such  work  for  me,  if 
I  could  trust  any  one  else,"  said  he,  sadly. 


216  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  will  deliver  the  note,"  replied  she. 

"  In  a  few  days  we  will  change  our  residence, 
Bertha,"  he  added,  with  a  smile.  "  I  hope  in  our 
new  home  we  may  be  happier  than  we  can  be 
here." 

Bertha  knew  not  what  to  say,  and  therefore  she 
said  nothing.  The  father  and  the  son  did  not 
agree,  and  the  house  was  divided  against  itself. 
It  was  a  very  painful  state  of  things,  to  see  this 
difference  between  those  who  should  cherish  and 
sustain  each  other,  and  Bertha,  who  had  almost 
idolized  her  father,  could  not  understand  it.  She 
put  on  her  hat  and  shawl,  and  was  leaving  the 
room,  when  Mr.  Presby  called  her  back. 

"  If  you  stay  with  me,  Bertha,  you  must  under- 
stand all  these  things,"  said  he.  "  It  is  a  sad 
story  to  tell  a  young  girl  like  you,  but  you  must 
know  it  all.  They  will  turn  you  against  me,  if 
you  don't." 

"  No  one  shall  turn  me  against  you,  sir.  You 
have  been  very  kind  to  me,  and  I  am  grateful 
for  it." 

"  They  will  make  you  believe  that  I  am  crazy." 

"  I  will  not  believe  it,  sir." 

Mr.  Presby  seated  himself  in  his  easy  chair 
again,  and  began  to  tell  Bertha  the  history  of  his 
troubles.  He  had  two  children,  a  son  and  a  daugh- 
ter. His  wife  had  died  ten  years  before,  and  soon 
after  her  death  a  difficulty  between  the  father  and 
son  had  occurred. 

Edward  had  never  devoted  himself  to  business 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      217 

of  any  kind,  but  spent  all  his  time  in  fashionable 
dissipation.  He  had  married  a  gay  and  extrava- 
gant lady,  and  after  the  death  of  his  mother,  he 
had  been  invited  to  "  keep  house  "  for  his  father. 
But  the  house  was  not  large  enough  for  the  fash- 
ionable lady,  and  both  she  and  Edward  had  im- 
portuned him  to  move  into  a  magnificent  palace  of 
a  house.  Mr.  Presby  was  simple  in  his  tastes, 
and  refused  to  do  so.  His  refusal  to  comply  had 
caused  the  first  quarrel. 

The  daughter  had  joined  with  the  son  in  the  re- 
quest to  purchase  the  palace,  and  had  taken  sides 
with  him  in  the  quarrel.  She  desired  to  live  in 
the  style  of  a  princess — to  outdo  all  her  neigh- 
bors and  friends.  The  demands  upon  the  purse  of 
Mr.  Presby  became  so  extravagant,  that  even  his 
immense  fortune  could  not  sustain  such  a  press- 
ure, and  he  had  been  compelled  to  limit  the  son 
to  six  thousand  dollars  a  year,  and  the  daughter 
to  fifteen  hundred. 

Mr.  Presby  had  been  firm  in  his  purpose,  and 
every  month  he  had  paid  over  to  each  the  sum 
allotted.  He  positively  refused  to  grant  another 
dollar,  though  he  was  continually  annoyed  by  ap- 
plications for  more,  which  were  often  accom- 
panied by  threats  and  abusive  language. 

The  quarrel  had  never  been  healed ;  on  the  con- 
trary, the  estrangement  became  greater  every 
year.  The  son  and  his  wife  had  obtained  complete 
possession  of  the  house,  except  the  floor  which  the 
old  gentleman  had  reserved  for  his  own  use.  They 


218  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

managed  its  affairs  to  suit  themselves,  without 
even  consulting  his  wishes  or  his  tastes,  and  he 
soon  felt  himself  a  stranger  there.  They  seemed 
to  look  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  hour  which 
would  end  his  mortal  pilgrimage,  and  place  them 
in  possession  of  his  wealth. 

Mr.  Presby  wept  as  he  told  this  sad  story,  and 
Bertha  pitied  him  more  than  ever.  She  thought 
he  had  been  very  liberal  with  his  children,  espe- 
cially as  the  son  refused  to  do  any  business,  as  his 
father  wished.  She  could  not  see  that  he  had  been 
to  blame,  and  she  wondered  at  the  patience  which 
he  had  displayed. 

"  Now,  Bertha,  you  understand  it  all,"  said  he ; 
"  and  I  see  that  you  pity  me." 

"  I  do,  indeed." 

"  But  they  are  my  children,  and  I  love  them 
still.  O,  how  it  would  gladden  my  heart  to  hear 
them  speak  gentle  words  to  me!  They  hate  me; 
they  want  my  property,  and  would  rejoice  to  have 
me  die,"  groaned  he,  covering  his  face  with  his 
hands.  "  I  would  give  all  I  have  if  they  would 
love  me." 

"  Perhaps  they  will." 

"  Their  hearts  are  hardened  against  me.  They 
want  my  money.  And  I  would  give  it  all  to  them, 
if  it  would  make  them  love  me.  I  would  become 
a  beggar  for  their  sake.  But  they  would  spend  all 
I  have  in  a  few  years,  and  it  would  be  folly  to  in- 
dulge them." 

"  I  think  John  is  a  very  bad  man,"  said  Bertha, 
recalling  what  he  had  said  to  her  in  the  entry. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       219 

"  He  is  not  only  a  spy  upon  my  actions,  but  he 
is  employed  to  thwart  me  in  my  wishes.  I  can- 
not endure  him.  I  have  been  peaceable  and  pa- 
tient; but  I  cannot  be  so  any  longer.  Now  you 
may  go  with  the  note,  Bertha." 

"  Shall  I  leave  it  if  the  gentleman  is  not  in?  " 

"  Yes ;  he  will  get  it  if  it  is  left  at  his  office." 

"  I  will  do  so,  sir." 

"  Stop  a  moment,  Bertha.  Have  you  any  money 
to  pay  your  fare  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  a  little." 

"Here  is  five  dollars;  you  may  wish  to  pur- 
chase something.  You  need  not  hurry  back,  for 
I  shall  try  to  sleep  an  hour  or  two,  if  I  am  not  too 
much  excited." 

Bertha  took  the  money,  and  thanked  her  em- 
ployer for  his  kindness.  As  she  descended  the 
stairs,  John  was  in  his  accustomed  place;  for  no 
one  seemed  to  pass  in  or  out  of  the  house  without 
his  knowledge. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  miss  ?  "  asked  he,  in 
conciliatory  tones. 

"  I  am  going  out,"  she  replied,  without  stopping. 

"  So  I  see ;  but  where  are  you  going?  " 

"  Down  town." 

"Where?" 

"  Excuse  me,  John,  but  I  am  in  a  hurry  to  do 
my  errand/' 

"What  is  your  errand,  miss?"  persisted  he. 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is  quite  proper  for  me  to  tell 
my  employer's  business  to  any  one,  and  you  will 
excuse  me  if^  do  not  answer  you." 


22O  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  O,  certainly ;  it's  none  of  my  business,  of 
course,  and  I  did  not  mean  to  pry  into  the  affairs 
of  Mr.  Presby." 

Bertha  placed  her  hand  upon  the  door ;  but  the 
night  lock  was  a  peculiar  one,  and  she  did  not 
understand  it.  She  kept  working  upon  it,  and 
John  did  not  offer  to  assist  her. 

"Have  you  seen  Miss  Ellen  Presby?"  asked 
John. 

"  I  have  not,"  replied  Bertha,  still  trying  to 
open  the  door. 

"  She  wishes  to  see  you.  I  will  call  her,  if  you 
please." 

"  I  will  see  her  when  I  return,"  said  Bertha ; 
but  John  had  gone. 

Bertha  had  some  ingenuity,  and  before  the  man 
came  back,  she  succeeded  in  opening  the  door. 
As  she  did  so,  she  discovered  a  couple  of  night 
keys  hanging  near  the  door,  and  in  order  to  save 
John  the  trouble  of  answering  her  summons  when 
she  returned,  she  put  one  of  them  in  her  pocket. 

When  she  had  seated  herself  in  the  stage,  she 
took  out  the  note  Mr.  Presby  had  given  her.  She 
doubted  not  it  had  some  reference  to  the  matters 
which  had  transpired  during  the  afternoon.  She 
turned  the  envelope,  and  read  with  astonishment 
the  name  of  the  man,  who,  a  few  days  before,  had 
turned  her  out  of  Woodville.  It  was  directed  to 
"  Samuel  Grayle,  Esq." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      221 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IN    WHICH   BERTHA   HEARS   GOOD   NEWS,   AND    H3 
SORELY  PERSECUTED. 

BERTHA  was  surprised  and  alarmed  to  find  the 
name  of  Mr.  Grayle  on  the  note.  She  hoped  Mr. 
Presby  had  no  business  relations  with  such  a  man, 
and  she  was  frightened  at  the  thought  of  seeing 
liim  again.  He  had  insulted  her  at  Woodville,  and 
he  might  do  so  in  New  York.  But  her  errand 
must  be  done;  and  she  hoped  he  would  not  be  in 
his  office. 

Mr.  Grayle  was  in  his  private  room  with  several 
gentlemen  when  she  reached  her  destination.  She 
gave  the  note  to  his  clerk,  and  saw  it  delivered. 
It  was  a  lucky  escape,  and  she  retreated  from  the 
place  well  satisfied  with  the  result.  As  Mr. 
Presby  had  told  her  she  need  not  hurry  back,  she 
decided  to  call  upon  Mr.  Sherwood  again. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  again,  Miss  Grant," 
said  the  clerk,  as  she  entered  the  office,  "  for  I 
have  good  news  for  you." 

"  Has  my  father  got  out  of  the  Tombs  ?  "  asked 
Bertha,  to  whom  this  seemed  to  be  the  only  good 
news  that  could  come  to  her. 

"  No ;  not  quite  so  good  as  that,"  replied  the 
clerk,  shaking  his  head.  "  You  saw  the  gentle- 


222  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

man  who  was  with  me  when  you  left  the  office 
this  morning?  " 

"  I  did." 

"  Did  you  know  him?  " 

"  I  did  not,  though  his  face  seemed  strangely 
familiar." 

"  It  was  your  uncle,  from  Valparaiso." 

"  Uncle  Obed?" 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  that  is  his  name ;  at  any  rate, 
he  is  your  father's  only  brother." 

"  O,  I  am  so  glad !  "  exclaimed  Bertha,  "  for  I 
know  that  he  can  save  my  father." 

"Your  father  shall  be  saved,  any  way;  but  for 
the  present  your  uncle  cannot  do  much.  He  is  a 
stranger  in  New  York.  His  business  in  Val- 
paraiso was  entirely  with  English  merchants." 

"  Where  is  he  now?  " 

"  He  is  stopping  at  the  Astor  House.  If  your 
father  can  only  be  set  at  liberty,  your  uncle  will 
take  care  of  his  pecuniary  matters  as  soon  as  his 
funds  arrive  from  England." 

"  I  will  call  and  see  him." 

"  I  think  he  has  gone  to  Philadelphia,  to  see  a 
friend  who  will  furnish  him  with  money  to  pay  off 
your  father's  most  pressing  debts." 

"  That  is  just  like  uncle  Obed,"  said  Bertha. 

"  He  remained  with  me  all  the  forenoon.  He 
knows  about  Brace  Brothers,  and  he  says  they 
have  only  suspended,  and  will,  eventually,  pay  all 
they  owe.  If  this  is  the  case,  Mr.  Grant  will  yet 
come  out  all  right.  As  the  matter  stands  now, 


The  Mission   of  Bertha  Grant.     223 

if  your  father  could  raise  about  fifty  thousand 
dollars,  it  would  keep  him  out  of  trouble  till  the 
affairs  of  Brace  Brothers  are  settled  up.  This 
your  uncle  will  endeavor  to  procure." 

"  Will  Mr.  Grayle  be  paid  then?  "  asked  Bertha. 

"  Mr.  Grayle  has  already  been  paid.  He  has 
taken  Woodville,  though  he  says  the  estate  will 
not  pay  him  what  he  has  advanced.  I  suppose  it 
would  not,  if  sold  at  auction,  and  he  does  not 
like  the  bargain.  As  soon  as  he  pressed  your 
father,  and  threw  him  into  prison,  others  became 
clamorous  for  their  money.  I  hope  your  uncle 
will  be  able  to  raise  the  sum  needed." 

"  I  am  sure  he  will." 

"  He  is  very  doubtful,  for  all  his  friends  are  in 
England,  and  all  his  property  is  there.  He  has 
retired  from  business,  and  means  to  settle  in  this 
vicinity,  as  soon  as  he  can  close  up  his  affairs, 
and  invest  his  wealth  in  this  country.  He  was 
very  anxious  to  see  you." 

"  I  will  see  him  at  once  if  I  can." 

On  her  way  up  town,  she  called  at  the  Astor 
House;  but  uncle  Obed  had  gone  to  Philadelphia, 
as  the  clerk  thought  he  had  done. 

It  was  time  for  her  to  return  to  Mr.  Presby's, 
and  she  took  a  stage  for  this  purpose.  Her  father 
and  his  affairs  now  engrossed  all  her  attention, 
and  she  even  forgot  those  of  her  invalid  employer. 
It  was  certainly  good  news  that  uncle  Obed  had 
arrived.  Her  father  had  written  to  him  several 
months  before,  and  she  had  felt  that,  if  he  would 


224  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

come,  all  would  be  well.  He  could  get  Mr.  Grant 
out  of  prison;  he  could  recover  possession  of 
Woodville;  and  he  could  advance  money  to  pay 
her  father's  debts,  and  thus  save  him  from  his 
creditors  till  the  affairs  of  Brace  Brothers  were 
settled. 

But  Uncle  Obed  seemed  to  be  almost  powerless, 
after  all.  He  had  come,  but  he  was  a  stranger  in 
the  land,  with  no  means  and  no  credit.  He  had 
wealth  enough,  but  it  might  as  well  have  been  at 
the  bottom  of  the  Red  Sea,  so  far  as  any  present 
use  was  concerned. 

Her  father  was  still  in  prison. 

Woodville  was  still  in  possession  of  Mr.  Grayle. 
Creditors  representing  fifty  thousand  dollars  were 
still  ready  to  harass  her  father. 

Here  were  three  tremendous  obstacles  in  the 
path  of  her  father.  Bertha  felt  that  she  was  but 
a  child,  and  she  could  do  nothing  against  such 
fearful  odds;  but  still  her  mission  was  to  save  her 
father.  The  coming  of  uncle  Obed  would  keep 
the  family  from  want;  but  all  her  father  had 
seemed  to  be  lost,  and  nothing  but  beggary  or  de- 
pendence to  be  before  him.  It  was  doubtful 
whether  uncle  Obed  could  do  anything  before  it 
would  be  too  late  to  save  her  father  from  ruin. 
What  could  she  do  herself?  Alas !  nothing. 

Still  thinking  of  these  things,  she  arrived  at  the 
door  of  Mr.  Presby's  house.  As  she  went  up  the 
stone  steps,  the  thought  came,  that  perhaps  she 
might  do  something;  but  it  was  too  absurd  to  be 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     225 

cherished,  and  she  dismissed  it  at  once.  She  was 
so  absorbed  with  these  reflections  that  she  did  not 
think  of  the  night  key  in  her  pocket,  and  rang 
the  bell.  The  summons  was  promptly  answered 
by  John,  who  opened  the  door  about  a  foot,  and 
placed  himself  in  the  aperture. 

"Who  do  you  wish  to  see,  miss?"  asked  he, 
politely. 

"  I  wish  to  see  Mr.  Presby — the  old  gentleman." 

"  Do  you?    Well,  he  isn't  at  home." 

"Notathome?" 

"  He  has  just  gone  out  of  town,  and  won't  be 
back  for  three  days." 

"  If  you  will  let  me  in,  I  will  go  to  my  room," 
said  Bertha,  who,  of  course,  did  not  believe  John's 
ridiculous  story. 

"  Eh?  "  added  the  man,  with  a  kind  of  leer,  as 
though  he  did  not  understand  her. 

"  I  say  I  will  go  to  my  room,  if  you  please." 

"  Your  room  ?  Pray,  miss,  where  is  your 
room?  " 

"  It  is  the  small  chamber  over  the  front  entry." 

"  Really,  miss,  I  don't  understand  you.  I  don't 
see  how  your  room  can  be  in  this  house." 

"Don't  you  know  me,  John?"  asked  Bertha, 
astonished  at  this  singular  reception. 

"Don't  I  know  you?  How  should  I  know 
you?"  replied  he,  with  an  innocent  look. 

"  I  am  the  young  lady  whom  Mr.  Presby  en- 
gaged to-day." 

"  Mr.  Presby  didn't  engage  any  young  lady  to 
day." 


226  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  Why,  yes  he  did,  John.  You  know  me  very 
well.  Didn't  you  talk  with  me  when  I  went  out, 
two  hours  ago,  and  ask  me  where  I  was  going?  " 

"  I  ?  'Pon  my  word,  I  never  saw  you  before  in 
my  life ! "  protested  John,  apparently  amazed  at 
this  statement. 

It  was  greeted  by  a  loud  laugh  from  the  entry 
behind  him.  It  was  the  same  voice  she  had  heard 
before,  and  Bertha  supposed  it  must  be  Miss 
Ellen. 

"  Then,  if  you  will  call  Mr.  Presby,  he  will  as- 
sure you  I  am  the  person  he  engaged." 

"  How  can  I  call  him  when  he  is  out  of  town?  " 

"  He  is  not  out  of  town,  John." 

"O,  now,  that  does  not  sound  like  a  lady  to 
doubt  my  word;  but  I  will  call  Mr.  Edward 
Presby." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  see  him." 

"  Then  I  can't  do  any  thing  for  you,  miss." 

"  I  will  go  up  to  my  room." 

"  We  don't  let  strangers  into  the  house,"  replied 
John,  decidedly. 

"What  do  you  mean,  John?  You  know  me 
well  enough." 

"Never  saw  you  before  in  my  life;  and  if  you 
doubt  my  word,  I  shall  never  want  to  see  you 
again." 

"  Send  her  away,  John,"  said  the  voice  of  the 
female  in  the  entry. 

"Good  evening,  miss;  if  you  call  next  week, 
you  may  see  Mr.  Presby,"  said  John,  with  one  of 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      227 

those  wicked  leers  with  which  he  accompanied  his. 
polite  impudence,  and  closed  the  door  in  her  face. 

Bertha,  astounded  by  this  incident,  retired  from 
the  door,  and  moved  down  the  street  again.  Such 
villainy  and  such  trickery  were  beyond  her  com- 
prehension. She  had  actually  been  denied  admis- 
sion to  the  house  of  her  employer.  But  she  had 
spirit  enough  not  to  yield  the  point.  She  had 
walked  down  the  street  but  a  short  distance  before 
she  thought  of  the  night  key  in  her  pocket,  and 
then  she  determined  to  return,  and  to  make  her 
way  to  Mr.  Presby's  library,  whether  John  was- 
willing  or  not,  for  it  did  not  occur  to  her  that  he 
would  carry  his  opposition  so  far  as  to  prevent  her 
by  force  from  doing  so.  It  was  evident  that  Mr. 
Presby's  son  and  daughter  intended  to  prevent 
her  from  remaining  with  him.  They  feared  her 
influence — that  she  might  comfort  and  encourage 
the  invalid,  and  thus  prolong  his  life;  or  be  an 
available  witness  in  a  contested  will  case;  or  that 
she  might  in  some  manner  prevent  them  from 
controlling  the  old  man's  thoughts  or  actions. 
"  You  must  not  love  me,  or  they  will  hate  you," 
had  been  the  warning  of  the  father.  If  they 
washed  to  prevent  her  from  seeing  Mr.  Presby 
again,  it  would  be  hard  for  her  to  do  so. 

Bertha  felt  that  the  old  man  was  in  the  hands 
of  his  enemies,  though  they  were  his  own  children, 
and  higher  considerations  than  her  own  comfort 
and  welfare  prompted  her  not  to  yield  to  the  con- 
spiracy. She  could  not  desert  the  old  gentleman 


228  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

when  he  had  been  so  kind  to  her.  Obeying  this 
generous  impulse,  she  hastened  up  the  steps,  and 
inserted  the  night  key  as  quickly  as  she  could. 
The  door  was  opened  without  difficulty,  and  not 
stopping  to  close  it  behind  her,  she  hung  up  the 
night  key  on  the  nail  from  which  she  had  taken 
it,  and  opened  the  inner  door,  intending  to  run  up 
stairs  before  John  should  appear  to  dispute  her 
passage. 

She  was  partially  successful,  and  had  ascended 
a  few  steps  before  the  vigilant  man-servant 
showed  himself.  But  John,  whom  Mrs.  Presby  re- 
garded as  the  most  useful  person  in  the  house,  was 
as  active  as  he  was  keen.  No  sooner  did  he  dis- 
cover that  he  had,  in  some  mysterious  manner, 
been  circumvented,  than  he  sprang  up  the  stairs, 
and  catching  hold  of  her  dress,  pulled  her  down 
to  the  door  again. 

"Who  is  it,  John?"  called  the  voice  of  the 
female  from  an  adjoining  room. 

"  It  is  the  girl  that  tried  to  get  in  a  few  mo- 
ments ago." 

"  An  entry  thief — isn't  she,  John  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Edward  Presby,  who  now  appeared  in  the  hall, 
followed  by  his  wife  and  his  sister. 

"  I  suppose  so,  sir,"  replied  the  ready  John. 
""  She  has  been  prowling  about  the  house  all  day. 
I  have  sent  her  away  twice/' 

"  But  how  did  she  get  in  ? "  demanded  Mr. 
Presby. 

"  That's  more  than  I  know ;  but  this  kind  of 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     229* 

folks  always  find  a  way  to  open  a  door,"  answered 
John,  with  a  wicked  grin. 

"  How  did  you  get  in  ? "  said  Mr.  Presby, 
sternly. 

"  Hush,  Ned,"  whispered  Miss  Ellen,  pointing 
up  stairs. 

"  No  fear  of  him ;  he  is  fast  asleep  in  the  back 
chamber,"  muttered  John. 

But  Mr.  Presby  acted  upon  this  caution,  and 
taking  Bertha  by  the  arm,  led  her  into  the  dining 
room,  in  the  rear,  where  the  invalid  could  not 
possibly  hear  what  transpired. 

"  Now,  how  did  you  get  in  ? "  repeated  Mr. 
Presby,  in  the  same  stern  tone  he  had  used  before^ 
as  though  he  had  been  speaking  to  a  common 
thief,  whom  he  hated  and  despised. 

"  I  came  in  with  the  night  key,"  replied  Bertha, 
appalled  at  the  turn  which  the  affair  had  taken. 

"  Where  did  you  get  the  night  key?  " 

"  I  took  it  from  the  nail  when  I  went  out." 

"  When  you  went  out !    When  was  that  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  she  means.  She  stole  the  key 
when  she  came  to  the  door  with  the  foolish  in- 
quiries," observed  Miss  Ellen. 

"  Did  you  miss  the  keys,  John  ? "  asked  Mr_ 
Presby. 

"  I  did  not,  sir.  I  don't  believe  she  got  in  tha* 
way.  I  will  go  and  see;  "  and  he  left  the  room, 

In  a  moment  he  returned,  declaring  the  two- 
night  keys  were  hanging  on  the  nail,  where  he 
had  seen  them  half  a  dozen  times  during  the  day. 


.230  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"Of  course  she  picked  the  lock,  then,"  added 
Mr.  Presby. 

"Well,  I  hope  something  will  be  done  about  it 
this  time,"  said  Mrs.  Presby.  "  You  caught  a 
woman  in  the  entry  once  before,  and  let  her  go 
because  she  was  well  dressed." 

"That  was  a  mistake  of  mine;  and  I  will  not 
make  another  of  the  same  kind.  John,  you  may 
go  and  get  an  officer." 

"  For  mercy's  sake,  Mr.  Presby,  don't  send  me  to 
prison !  "  said  Bertha,  terrified  beyond  expression. 

"  That  is  just  what  the  woman  said,  in  almost 
the  same  words,"  added  Mrs.  Presby. 

"Don't  you  know  me,  sir?"  pleaded  Bertha. 
"  I  was  in  the  library  when  you  were  there  this 
afternoon." 

"  No  use,"  replied  Mr.  Presby,  shaking  his  head. 
"  That  kind  of  stuff  won't  go  down." 

"  The  other  thief  said  she  wanted  to  see  her 
«ister,  who  was  a  servant  in  the  house,"  said  Miss 
Ellen. 

"  It  is  a  plain  case,  miss,  and  there  is  no  use 
of  wasting  words  in  idle  stories.  I  let  one  entry 
thief  escape,  and  I  will  not  permit  another  to  slip 
through  my  fingers." 

"  I  am  no  thief,  sir.  I  beg  you  to  send  up  to 
your  father,  and  he  will  assure  you  I  am  not  a 
thief,"  pleaded  Bertha. 

"  My  father  is  out  of  town." 

Poor  Bertha  could  say  nothing  to  move  her  per- 
secutors ;  and,  in  despair,  she  relapsed  into  silence. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      231 

In  a  few  moments  John  returned  with  a  police- 
man. Mr.  Preeby  and  his  man  told  their  story, 
and  the  officer  thought  it  was  a  very  plain  case. 

"  Come,  miss,"  said  he,  taking  her  by  the  arm 
and  leading  her  out  into  the  street. 


232  Rich  and  Humble,  or 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

IN   WHICH    BERTHA   PROVES   HER   INNOCENCE,   AND 
MEETS  RICHARD   IN   THE   STATION    HOUSE. 

IT  was  now  quite  dark,  and  in  the  friendly 
shades  of  night,  poor  Bertha  was  spared  the  shame 
of  being  gazed  upon  by  unthinking  people  in  the 
street.  The  policeman  took  her  by  the  hand,  and 
conducted  her  to  the  station,  where  she  was  to  re- 
main till  morning,  when  she  would  be  taken  be- 
fore a  magistrate  to  be  examined  on  the  charge  of 
"  breaking  and  entering." 

She  was  so  terrified  by  the  scene  through  which 
she  had  just  passed,  that  she  had  not  the  courage 
to  say  any  thing  to  the  officers  in  vindication  of 
her  innocence.  They  looked  at  her  with  curiosity 
and  some  of  them  seemed  to  regard  her  as  a  differ- 
ent person  from  those  who  were  usually  brought 
to  the  station. 

"  Bless  my  soul ! "  exclaimed  a  sergeant,  when 
he  came  to  look  at  her.  "  I  have  certainly  seen 
that  face  before." 

"  O,  Nathan ! "  groaned  Bertha,  as  she  recog- 
nized in  the  officer  a  man  who  had  formerly  been 
employed  as  coachman  at  Woodville. 

"  Bertha  Grant ! "  ejaculated  he,  holding  up 
both  hands  with  astonishment.  "  It  can't  be  pos- 
sible!" 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      233 

"  I  am  innocent,  Nathan,"  sobbed  Bertha.  "  I 
have  not  done  any  thing  to  bring  me  to  this  place. 
I  am  so  glad  to  find  you  here." 

"  Poor  girl !  I  can't  do  any  thing  for  you,  I  am 
afraid." 

"You  will  not  keep  me  in  this  terrible  place? 
You  will  not  let  them  carry  me  before  the  court. 
It  would  kill  my  poor  father." 

"  I  would  not,  if  I  could  help  it,  Bertha,"  re- 
plied Nathan,  sadly ;  "  but  we  have  to  keep  people 
who  are  arrested  on  such  charges  till  they  are 
proved  to  be  innocent." 

"  I  am  innocent !  I  have  not  done  any  thing 
wrong." 

"  But  I  have  no  right  to  let  you  go — at  least 
while  you  stand  charged  with  breaking  and  enter- 
ing. If  I  dared,  I  would  let  you  go  at  once." 

"  Let  me  tell  you  all  about  it,  and  then  perhaps 
you  will  know  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

"  I  will  do  every  thing  I  can  for  you,  Bertha. 
You  were  always  kind  to  me,  and  I  would  do  any 
thing  to  get  you  out  of  trouble." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  do  any  thing  wrong,  Na- 
than. I  would  not  have  you  neglect  your  duty 
even  to  save  me  from  prison." 

Bertha  then  told  the  sergeant  every  thing  that 
had  occurred  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Presby  during 
the  day,  from  the  moment  she  rang  the  bell  in  the 
forenoon,  till  she  had  been  taken  out  of  the  house 
by  the  policeman. 

"  Poor  girl ! "  sighed  the  policeman,  when  she 


234  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

had  finished  her  simple  narrative.  "  I  think  we 
can  get  you  out  of  trouble  very  soon.  If  Mr. 
Presby,  the  old  gentleman,  will  only  say  that  you 
were  lawfully  in  the  house,  that  you  had  a  right 
to  be  there,  we  will  not  keep  you  a  single  mo- 
ment." 

"  Mr.  Presby  would  come  to  me  at  once,  if  he 
only  knew  I  was  here;  I  know  he  would,"  added 
Bertha. 

"  It  is  a  plain  case,  and  all  we  want  is  a  word 
from  him.  Now  I  will  go  rigL1-  down  to  his  house, 
and  tell  him  all  about  it." 

"  I  am  afraid  they  will  not  let  you  see  him." 

"  I  will  see  him.  Don't  disturb  yourself  about 
that,  Bertha.  I  shall  certainly  see  him." 

The  sergeant  then  spoke  to  the  principal  officers 
of  the  station,  and  Bertha,  instead  of  being  put 
into  a  cell  with  the  wretched  thieves  and  drunk- 
ards who  had  already  been  brought  in,  was  per- 
mitted to  remain  in  the  office. 

At  nine  o'clock,  Nathan  had  not  returned,  and 
Bertha  was  sure  that  he  had  found  some  difficulty 
in  seeing  Mr.  Presby ;  but  she  was  sure,  too,  that 
he  would  do  all  he  could  for  her,  and  so  she  waited 
in  hope  and  patience.  Occasionally  a  thief  or  a 
vagabond  was  brought  in,  but  Bertha  did  not  even 
care  to  look  at  him.  At  ten  o'clock,  while  she 
was  wondering  that  the  sergeant  did  not  come,  an 
officer  led  a  boy  into  the  room. 

"  What  have  you  got  there  ?  "  demanded  the 
captain. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      235 

"  A  little  fellow  that  I  picked  up  in  the  next 
street.  He  is  so  tipsy  he  can't  stand  alone,  and 
had  stretched  himself  on  the  curb  stone,  where  he 
was  near  having  his  legs  broken  by  a  stage." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  Don't  know,  sir.  He  is  well  dressed.  I  asked 
him  where  his  home  was,  and  he  said  he  hadn't 
any." 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  boy,  rousing  from  his  stupor, 
"  I  haven't  any  home ;  but  I  belong  to  the  yacht 
Whirlwind." 

"  Merciful  heavens ! "  cried  Bertha,  rushing  to 
the  side  of  the  intoxicated  youth. 

"  Do  you  know  him,  miss?  "  asked  the  captain. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  do,"  stammered  Bertha. 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  He  is  my  brother." 

"  What !  Is  that  you,  Berty  ?  "  stammered  Rich- 
ard Grant.  "  Well,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Berty. 
What  are  you  doing  here?  " 

"  O,  Richard ! "  was  all  that  the  poor  girl  could 
utter,  as  she  threw  herself  into  a  chair,  and  wept 
bitterly. 

"  Put  him  to  bed,"  said  the  captain,  in  a  low 
tone. 

The  officers  took  the  drunken  boy  out  of  hia 
chair,  and  laid  him  in  one  of  the  bunks  of  an 
adjoining  cell.  The  captain  gave  Bertha  permis- 
sion to  stay  with  him,  but  he  was  unable  to  talk 
much,  £nd  soon  dropped  asleep.  She  covered  him 
up,  arid  seated  herself  by  his  side.  When  she 


236  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

heard  the  outer  door  open  again,  she  hastened  out 
to  see  if  Nathan  had  come. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  Poor  child !  "  said  Mr.  Presby, 
as  he  entered  the  room. 

Bertha  hastened  to  him,  her  eyes  still  filled  with 
the  tears  called  forth  by  the  new  grief  that  had 
come  upon  her. 

"  O,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Presby ! "  ex- 
claimed she,  as  she  grasped  the  old  gentleman's 
extended  hands. 

"Poor  child!  Poor  child!  I  told  you  they 
•would  hate  you  if  you  loved  me.  They  sent  you 
to  a  prison — did  they?  O  God!  They  are  my 
children." 

"  It's  all  right,  Miss  Bertha,"  said  Nathan  who 
had  already  told  the  captain  that  the  girl  had 
spoken  the  truth. 

"  May  Heaven  bless  you,  Nathan !  "  said  Bertha, 
taking  him  by  the  hand.  "  You  have  saved  me 
from  a  world  of  anguish,  and  I  shall  be  grateful 
to  you  as  long  as  I  live." 

"  Never  mind  that,  Bertha.  You  were  always 
good  to  me,  and  I  am  too  glad  of  a  chance  to 
serve  you." 

"  Poor  child !  "  added  Mr.  Presby.  "  Are  you 
satisfied  now,  captain  ?  " 

"Entirely;  the  girl  can  go  as  soon  as  she 
pleases,"  replied  the  captain. 

"  Come,  Bertha,  let  us  get  away  from  this  place ; 
but  we  will  remember  your  friend  the  sergeant. 
I  have  a  carriage  at  the  door.  I  will  not  let  you 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.       237 

go  out  of  my  sight  again  while  we  remain  in  the 
city.  Come,  Bertha." 

"  I  can't  go  now,"  she  replied,  glancing  at  the 
cell  in  which  Richard  was  sleeping  off  the  fumes 
of  the  liquor  he  had  drank. 

The  captain  now  kindly  came  forward,  and  ex- 
plained what  had  taken  place  during  the  absence 
of  the  sergeant.  Mr.  Presby  was  full  of  sympathy 
for  the  poor  girl,  and  at  once  proposed  to  take 
Eichard  away  with  them ;  but  Nathan  promised  to 
take  care  of  him  till  morning,  and  detain  him  till 
Bertha  could  see  him  again. 

"  Now,  Bertha,  we  will  be  happy,"  said  Mr. 
Presby,  when  they  were  seated  in  the  carriage.  "  I 
have  just  purchased  a  fine  house  in  the  country, 
and  we  will  go  there  to-morrow.  You  shall  not 
be  persecuted  any  more." 

"  I  do  not  care  for  myself,"  added  Bertha. 

"  Your  brother  shall  go  with  you.  The  poor 
boy  had  no  home,  and  I  suppose  he  was  sad  and 
lonely.  We  will  take  good  care  of  him,  and  he  will 
never  do  such  a  thing  again." 

"  I  hope  not." 

st  The  house  I  have  bought  is  a  beautiful  one. 
I  have  purchased  all  the  furniture,  horses,  boats, 
and  every  thing,  just  as  its  late  owner  left  it.  I 
am  sure  we  shall  be  very  happy  there." 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  happy." 

"  I  shall  be ;  perhaps  if  I  leave  them,  it  will 
do  them  good.  They  do  not  believe  that  I  will  go, 
for  I  have  threatened  to  do  so,  a  great  many  times, 


238  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

when  my  heart  would  not  let  me.  But  the  place 
is  bought  this  time,  and  I  have  given  my  check 
for  it.  Did  you  think  I  never  would  come  to 
you?" 

"  I  thought  John  would  not  let  the  officer  see 
you." 

"  I  was  not  at  home  when  he  came.  I  was  at 
Mr.  Grayle's  office,  where  the  purchase  was  com- 
pleted, and  the  deed  given." 

"  Mr.  Grayle ! "  exclaimed  Bertha,  a  new  light 
appearing  to  her. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Grayle ;  I  bought  the  place  of  him. 
The  estate  is  known  by  the  name  of  Woodville. 
Quite  a  pretty  name — isn't  it?  " 

"Woodville!"  repeated  Bertha.  "And  you 
have  bought  it?" 

"  Yes ;  you  appear  to  know  the  place." 

"  It  was  my  home  till  a  few  days  ago,"  answered 
Bertha,  sadly. 

"  Your  home !  Good  Heaven !  Then  you  are  the 
daughter  of  poor  Franklin  Grant." 

"  I  am,  sir." 

"Poor  child!  I  was  slightly  acquainted  with 
your  father ;  but  he  had  a  quarrel  with  Mr.  Grayle, 
which  concerned  me,  and  I  haven't  seen  him  for 
several  years." 

"  Is  Mr.  Grayle  your  friend?  "  asked  she. 

"  Not  exactly  my  friend.  I  have  had  some  busi- 
ness relations  with  him;  but  I  have  nothing 
against  your  father." 

Bertha,  in  her  own  simple  style,  then  told  him 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     239 

what  Mr.  Grayle  had  done  to  her  father,  and  that 
he  had  turned  his  children  out  of  Woodville.  Mr, 
Presby  was  indignant,  and  declared  that  he  would 
never  trust  him  again. 

When  the  carriage  reached  the  house,  they  were 
admitted  by  John,  who  was  as  polite  as  a  French 
dancing  master.  They  had  no  sooner  entered  the 
library  than  Edward  Presby  presented  himself. 
He  declared  that  the  arrest  of  Bertha  was  a  mis- 
take. He  did  not  know  her,  and  none  of  the 
family  had  ever  seen  her. 

"  Edward,"  said  the  father,  very  sternly,  "  it  is 
useless  for  you  to  say  any  thing.  We  part  to- 
morrow; let  us  part  in  peace." 

"Part,  father?"  exclaimed  Edward. 

Mr.  Presby  briefly  informed  his  son  what  he  had 
done,  and  stated  his  plans  for  the  future. 

"  Surely  you  will  not  leave  us,  father,"  said 
Edward,  who  probably  began  to  realize  that  he 
had  gone  too  far. 

"  I  shall  go  to-morrow." 

The  son  tried  to  explain,  and  said  all  he  could 
to  alter  his  purpose;  but  Mr.  Presby  remained 
firm  to  the  last,  and  he  finally  retired  in  anger, 
and  with  threats  on  his  lips. 

Bertha  went  to  her  chamber,  but  she  could  not 
sleep,  she  was  so  excited  by  the  events  of  the 
evening.  On  the  morrow  she  was  to  return  to 
Woodville,  though  not  with  the  family;  and  she 
was  sad  at  the  thought  of  going  without  her 
father. 


240  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

Uncle  Obed  would  return  from  Philadelphia  the 
next  day,  and  she  hoped  he  would  bring  some  com- 
fort for  her;  for  with  Richard  intoxicated  in  the 
station  house,  and  her  father  still  in  the  Tombs, 
her  mission  seemed  farther  than  ever  from  its  ac- 
complishment. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      241 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

IN  WHICH  BERTHA  FINDS  UNCLE  OBED,  AND  RETURNS 
TO  WOODVILLE. 

MR.  PRESBY  called  Bertha  at  an  early  hour  on 
the  following  morning,  for  the  carriage  had  been 
engaged  for  her  at  seven  o'clock.  She  had  slept 
but  little  during  the  night,  for  the  terrible  condi- 
tion of  her  brother  haunted  her  thoughts  when 
awake,  and  her  dreams  when  she  slept.  She  was 
driven  to  the  station  house,  where  Richard  had 
slept  off  the  fumes  of  the  intoxicating  cup. 

He  was  glad  to  see  her,  but  he  was  very  much 
depressed  in  spirits,  and  heartily  ashamed  of  his 
conduct.  He  was  more  reasonable  and  penitent 
than  she  had  ever  seen  him  before.  He  told  her 
that  the  yacht  had  come  from  Newport  the  day 
before,  and  that  he  had  been  discharged,  because 
they  no  longer  wanted  him.  He  had  taken  a  room 
at  a  hotel,  but  he  had  only  two  dollars  left  of  the 
money  he  had  brought  from  Woodville,  increased 
by  a  few  dollars  he  had  earned.  He  acknowledged 
that  he  had  been  intoxicated  twice  while  at  New- 
port, and  that  when  he  came  on  shore  in  New 
York,  he  felt  very  sad  at  the  thought  of  having  no 
home ;  and  he  had  drank  some  wine  to  cheer  him 
up.  and  make  him  forget  that  his  father  was  in 
prison,  and  thf1  family  scattered. 

"  Bertha,  I  never  will  taste  any  wine  or  liquor 


242  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

again  as  long  as  I  live,"  said  he,  with  solemn 
earnestness,  when  he  had  finished  his  narrative. 

"  I  hope  you  never  will,  Richard.  My  heart  is 
nearly  broken  now,"  added  Bertha,  wiping  away 
her  tears;  "but  if  you  will  be  good  and  true,  I 
shall  be  happy  again.  O,  you  don't  know  how 
much  I  have  thought  of  you !  " 

"  Come,  Berty,  don't  cry.  I  have  been  selfish 
and  wicked,  but  I  will  stand  by  you  now  to  the 
last.  I  will  do  any  thing  you  wish." 

Bertha  was  very  much  comforted  by  Richard's 
promises  of  amendment,  for  she  felt  that  he  meant 
them,  and  she  prayed  that  he  might  have  the 
firmness  to  keep  them.  She  then  told  him  what 
had  happened  during  their  separation ;  of  the  sale 
of  Woodville,  and  the  return  of  uncle  Obed,  and 
that  she  was  going  to  their  old  home  with  Mr. 
Presby. 

This  conversation  took  place  in  the  carriage, 
and  on  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  Mr.  Presby's 
house.  For  some  time,  Richard  could  not  be  per- 
suaded to  visit  his  sister's  employer;  but  he  at  last 
consented.  The  old  gentleman  did  not  allude  to 
the  events  of  the  preceding  evening,  but  talked 
about  his  plans  in  connection  with  Woodville. 
He  insisted  that  Richard  should  go  with  them, 
and  occupy  his  old  room;  indeed,  he  said  he 
wanted  him  very  much  to  assist  him  in  finding  the 
housekeeper,  the  boatman,  and  the  servants,  for 
he  intended  to  restore  every  thing  to  the  condition 
in  which  Mr.  Grant  had  left  it. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      243: 


Richard  gladly  consented  to  remain  with 
and  assist  him  in  moving  his  books,  papers,  and 
other  articles,  which  were  to  be  conveyed  to 
Woodville.  His  wonted  spirits  seemed  to  return 
when  his  mind  was  occupied,  and  before  break- 
fast was  over,  Mr.  Presby  and  Richard  were  excel- 
lent friends. 

The  forenoon  was  occupied  in  packing  up  the 
books  and  papers,  which  were  sent  off  early  in 
the  afternoon,  under  the  care  of  Richard,  who  had 
instructions  to  find  the  old  servants,  and  send 
them  back  to  their  accustomed  places. 

At  one  o'clock,  when  the  Philadelphia  train  had 
arrived,  Bertha  repaired  to  the  Astor  House,  to~ 
ascertain  if  uncle  Obed  had  returned,  leaving  Mr. 
Presby  with  his  son  and  daughter.  The  latter 
were  astonished  and  alarmed  at  the  firmness  of 
their  father,  and  the  events  of  years  were  re- 
hearsed and  commented  upon.  They  promised  ta 
let  him  have  his  own  way  in  all  things  if  he  would 
remain  and  were  even  willing  to  discharge  John. 
They  asked  him  what  the  world  would  say;  but  he- 
was  silent.  They  proposed  to  go  with  him  to 
Woodville;  but  he  declined.  He  had  gone  too  far 
to  recede.  Mr.  Presby  told  them  what  he  had  suf- 
fered, but  he  spoke  kindly,  and  hoped  they  would 
visit  him  in  his  new  home. 

Bertha  was  rejoiced  to  find  that  uncle  Obed  was 
in  the  house,  and  she  was  shown  to  his  room. 
She  had  never  seen  him  before  they  met  in  the 
office  of  her  father,  but  the  picture  of  him  that 


.244  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

hung  in  the  drawing  room  at  Woodville  was  so 
true,  that  his  countenance  seemed  familiar  to  her. 

"  My  dear  uncle !  "  exclaimed  she,  as  she  rushed 
forward  to  grasp  his  extended  hand. 

"  Then  this  is  Bertha,"  replied  uncle  Obed,  as 
he  kissed  her. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you !  " 

"  And  I  am  as  glad  to  see  you ;  for  when  I 
heard  what  had  happened,  I  was  very  much 
•alarmed  about  you." 

Of  course  the  conversation  immediately  turned 
to  the  situation  of  her  father.  Bertha  told  him 
what  had  occurred  from  the  time  of  her  father's 
^arrest.  Uncle  Obed  was  sad  and  thoughtful.  He 
was  perplexed  and  disappointed.  He  felt  a  strong 
desire  to  do  something  which  he  could  not  accom- 
plish. 

"  Mr.  Sherwood  told  me  you  had  gone  to  Phila- 
delphia to  obtain  the  money  which  would  save 
my  poor  father  from  ruin,"  said  Bertha. 

"  I  did  go,  but  my  friend  was  not  at  home,  and 
will  not  return  for  a  week.  Bertha,  I  am  sorely 
tried;  I  don't  see  that  I  can  do  any  thing  for  your 
father  at  present.  I  cannot  raise  the  money." 

"  I  hoped  you  would  be  able  to  save  my  poor 
father." 

"  I  have  done  every  thing  I  could ;  but  I  am  a 
stranger  here  now.  Fifty  thousand  dollars  is  an 
immense  sum  of  money." 

"  Perhaps  I  can  raise  it,  uncle  Obed,"  said  Ber- 
tha, musing. 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      245. 

"  You,  child?    Of  course  you  cannot." 

"  I  can  try." 

Uncle  Obed  laughed  at  the  assurance  of  Bertha, 
and  did  not  bestow  a  second  thought  upon  the 
absurd  proposition. 

"  I  must  go  to  Woodville  with  Mr.  Presby  this 
afternoon/'  said  she,  "  and  I  must  leave  you  now, 
uncle." 

"  I  am  sorry  Woodville  was  sold,  for  I  meant  to 
buy  it  myself  when  my  funds  arrive.  I  intended, 
to  have  seen  Mr.  Grayle  yesterday.  I  suppose  it 
is  of  no  use  to  regret  it,  though.  When  shall 
I  see  you  again,  Bertha?  " 

"  I  shall  probably  come  to  the  city  to-morrow,, 
with  Mr.  Presby." 

Bertha  hastened  back  to  the  house  of  Mr. 
Presby,  where  he  was  to  wait  her  return. 

"Did  you  see  your  uncle?"  asked  he. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  You  told  me  he  would  release  your  father." 

"Yes,  sir;  but  he  cannot,"  replied  Bertha, 
bursting  into  tears. 

"Poor  child!    Why  not?" 

"  Mr.  Grayle  put  my  father  in  prison,  and  keeps 
him  there." 

"  I  will  see  Grayle  before  I  go  to  Woodville," 
said  the  old  gentleman,  jumping  out  of  his  chair. 

"  But  that  would  not  be  enough,"  added  Bertha. 

"What  more,  child?" 

"  My  uncle  has  been  trying  to  raise  a  large  sum 
of  money,  to  satisfy  the  creditors  who  persecute- 
my  father." 


.246  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  How  much  money  ?" 

"  Fifty  thousand  dollars,"  replied  Bertha,  draw- 
ing a  very  long  breath. 

"  Fifty  thousand !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Presby. 

"My  uncle  will  be  responsible  for  it:  he  is  a 
rich  man,  but  all  his  wealth  is  in  England." 

"  You  shall  have  the  money,  my  child,"  said  Mr. 
Presby,  after  a  few  moments'  consideration. 

"  May  Heaven  bless  you  as  you  have  blessed 
me ! "  exclaimed  Bertha,  clasping  his  hands,  and 
rapturously  kissing  his  pale  forehead. 

"I  will  go  down  now  and  see  Grayle ;  then  I 
will  meet  you  at  the  Astor  House.  It  will  be  late 
when  we  get  to  Woodville  to-night,  but  your 
father  shall  go  with  us,  Bertha,"  said  the  old  gen- 
tleman, as  he  put  on  his  hat  and  took  his  cane. 
""  Come,  child ;  we  will  lose  no  time." 

"  O,  sir,  I  am  so  happy !  " 

"  I  didn't  understand  before  that  Grayle  caused 
.your  father  to  be  imprisoned.  If  I  had,  I  would 
have  seen  him  before." 

Bertha  hastened  back  to  the  Astor  House,  while 
Mr.  Presby  took  a  carriage  and  drove  to  the  office 
of  Grayle. 

"  O,  uncle  Obed ! "  cried  Bertha,  as  she  rushed 
into  his  room,  out  of  breath  with  the  exertion  of 
running  up  stairs. 

"What  now,  Bertha?" 

"  I  have  got  the  money !  " 

"  What !     Impossible !  " 

"  I  have ;  Mr.  Presby  will  let  you  have  it,  and 
father  will  be  set  at  liberty  to-night '  " 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      247 

Uncle  Obed  was  incredulous,  and  seemed  to  be 
of  John's  opinion,  that  Mr.  Presby  was  crazy.  He 
absolutely  refused  to  believe  the  good  news,  and 
the  non-appearance  of  Mr.  Presby  seemed  to 
justify  his  want  of  faith.  It  was  three  hours  be- 
fore the  old  gentleman  came,  and  Bertha  began  to 
fear  that  her  enthusiasm  had  deceived  her.  But 
he  came  at  last,  and  the  two  gentlemen  were  in- 
troduced to  each  other. 

Mr.  Presby  opened  the  business  of  the  meeting 
by  saying  what  a  good  girl  Bertha  was;  that, 
though  he  had  known  her  only  two  days,  he  loved 
her  as  his  own  child.  He  then  inquired  very  par- 
ticularly into  uncle  Obed's  business  affairs,  and 
having  satisfied  himself  in  regard  to  his  financial 
soundness,  he  produced  checks  for  fifty  thousand 
dollars. 

"  Business  men  would  call  me  a  fool  or  a  luna- 
tic, after  what  I  have  done;  but  if  I  knew  I 
should  lose  every  dollar  I  have  advanced,  I  should 
do  just  as  I  have  done,"  said  Mr.  Presby,  as  he 
placed  uncle  Obed's  notes  in  his  pocket-book. 

"  You  shall  not  lose  a  penny  of  it,  Mr.  Presby," 
said  uncle  Obed,  earnestly.  "  I  am  able  to  pay 
these  notes  three  times  over." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,  Mr.  Grant.  Now,  if  the 
business  is  finished,  we  will  call  in  somebody  else," 
added  Mr.  Presby,  as  he  rang  the  bell. 

He  whispered  something  very  mysteriously,  to 
the  waiter  who  answered  the  summons  and  thenr 
continued  the  conversation  with  uncle  Obed. 


248  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

"  I  have  purchased  your  brother's  estate — 
Woodville;  but  whenever  he  wants  it  again,  he 
shall  have  it,"  said  he.  "  I  must  be  in  sight  of 
Bertha;  and  I  suppose  I  can  buv  a  piece  of  land 
and  build  a  cottage  upon  it." 

"  Nay,  sir,  you  shall  always  have  a  home  at 
Woodville.  I  can  promise  that  for  my  brother," 
replied  uncle  Obed. 

"  O,  yes !  "  said  Bertha.  "  I  should  be  so  happy 
to  have  you  at  our  house ! " 

Brace  Brothers  will  certainly  pay  all  they  owe. 
I  fully  understand  the  cause  of  their  suspension. 
When  your  father  gets  out  of  this  difficulty,  he 
will  be  as  well  off  as  ever  he  was,"  added  uncle 
Obed. 

At  this  moment  the  door  was  thrown  open  by 
the  waiter.  A  joyful  cry  from  Bertha  revealed 
the  nature  of  Mr.  Presby's  mysterious  proceedings 
with  the  bell  rope  and  the  waiter. 

"  My  father !  My  father !  "  exclaimed  Bertha, 
as  she  rushed  into  his  arms,  and  kissed  him  over 
and  over  again. 

"  My  dear  child !  "  said  Mr.  Grant,  as  he  pressed 
the  overjoyed  daughter  to  his  heart,  while  the 
great  tears  rolled  down  his  thin,  pale  cheek. 

Bertha  felt  that  her  mission  was  accomplished 
— at  least  her  present  and  most  urgent  one.  Long 
and  tenderly  she  caressed  her  father,  while  she 
told  him  how  kind  Mr.  Presby  had  been  to  her. 

"  This  is  all  Bertha's  work.  Franklin,"  said 
uncle  Obed.  "  She  raised  the  money,  and  pro- 
cured your  release." 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      249 

"  No,  father ;  it  was  Mr.  Presby." 

"  For  your  sake  I  did  it,  my  child,"  added  Mr. 
Presby.  "  But  come ;  we  are  all  going  to  Wood- 
ville  to-night." 

The  next  train  bore  the  whole  party  from  the 
city.  On  the  way  all  the  incidents  connected  with 
the  release  of  Mr.  Grant  were  rehearsed.  At  first 
Grayle  would  not  consent  to  it;  but  Mr.  Presby 
had  compelled  him  to  do  so  by  threats  which  he 
had  the  power  to  carry  out,  for  the  wretch  owed 
him  large  sums  of  money.  Mr.  Presby  had  be- 
come his  bail  till  the  action  could  be  disposed  of; 
but  Grayle  acknowledged  that  the  charge  of  fraud 
could  not  be  proved.  He  declared  that  the  affair 
would  ruin  him,  when  Mr.  Grant  was  released. 

It  was  dark  when  the  party  arrived  at  Wood- 
ville;  but  the  house  was  lighted  up,  and  they  were 
greeted  by  the  housekeeper  and  the  old  boatman, 
whom  Kichard  had  summoned  back  to  the  man- 
sion. Noddy  Newman  turned  half  a  dozen  back 
somersets  on  the  lawn  when  he  saw  Bertha  run- 
ning up  the  walk.  Several  of  the  servants  were 
in  their  places,  and  supper  was  on  the  table,  just 
as  though  no  break  had  occurred  in  the  household 
arrangements.  Ben  was  sent  after  Fanny,  and 
that  evening  the  family  were  reunited  in  the  sit» 
ting  room. 


250  Rich  and  Humble,  or 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IN  WHICH  BERTHA  VISITS  THE  GLEN  AGAIN,  AND  THE 
STORY  ENDS. 

THE  next  day  Mr.  Grant  and  uncle  Obed  went 
to  the  city  to  arrange  the  business  of  the  former, 
leaving  Mr.  Presby  at  home  with  the  children. 
Bertha  spent  the  whole  forenoon  in  showing  the 
old  gentleman  about  the  estate,  and  leading  him  to 
all  the  pleasant  places  in  the  vicinity. 

After  dinner,  Richard  took  them  over  to  White- 
stone  in  the  Greyhound,  and  on  their  return  they 
visited  Van  Alstine's  Island  and  the  Glen.  Even 
Dunk's  Hollow  had  heard  the  glad  tidings  of  the 
return  of  the  family  to  Woodville,  and  the  chil- 
dren of  the  little  mission  school  had  gone  to  the 
Glen  in  the  forenoon,  and  again  in  the  afternoon, 
in  the  hope  that  Bertha  might  meet  them  there. 

As  the  party  landed,  they  were  received  with 
shouts  of  rejoicing.  Gretchy  Von  Brunt  danced 
with  joy,  and  Grouty  Von  Grunt  leaped  up  in  the 
air  as  though  the  ground  had  been  too  hot  to 
stand  upon,  while  the  other  members  of  the  school 
manifested  their  satisfaction  in  a  manner  not  less 
equivocal,  though  rather  more  dignified.  Bertha 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.     251 

kissed  all  the  children,  boys  and  girls ;  for  they  all 
had  clean  faces,  and  wore  the  new  clothes  which 
their  teacher  had  provided. 

The  whole  troop  ran  before  Bertha  as  she  con- 
ducted Mr.  Presby  up  to  the  Glen,  and  seated 
themselves  in  their  accustomed  places  in  the  arbor. 
The  visitors  spent  a  very  pleasant  hour  with 
them,  and  left,  with  the  promise  to  come  again  on 
the  following  day. 

"  Now,  Bertha,  you  must  go  on  with  your 
school  just  as  you  did  before,"  said  Mr.  Presby. 
"  If  the  children  want  any  clothes  or  books,  or  any 
thing  that  costs  money,  you  must  let  me  know 
it.  And  you  must  let  me  help  you  teach  the 
school." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  feel 
an  interest  in  these  poor  children,"  replied  Bertha. 

"  It  will  make  me  happy,  as  it  does  you.  Of 
course  your  school  can  last  only  four  or  five 
months?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  it  is  too  cold  after  October  to  meet 
at  the  Glen." 

"  Well,  Bertha,  we  must  build  a  nice  little 
school  house,  so  that  we  can  meet  the  children  in 
the  winter." 

As  the  boat  bore  them  down  to  the  Woodville 
landing,  Mr.  Presby  and  Bertha  formed  many 
plans  for  improving  the  condition  of  the  poor 
children  of  Dunk's  Hollow;  but  the  limit  of  our 
story  does  not  permit  us  to  follow  them  in  the  ex- 
ecution of  those  notable  schemes.  The  little 


252  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

school  house  was  built;  other  children  were  in- 
duced to  join  the  number:  all  the  scholars  were 
supplied  with  warm  clothing  for  the  winter;  and 
as  the  pupils  could  all  read  very  well,  a  library 
was  provided  for  their  use.  From  the  children, 
the  mission  of  Bertha  and  her  wealthy  co-laborer 
extended  to  the  parents,  and  Dunk's  Hollow  itself 
began  to  wear  a  new  aspect.  Mr.  Presby  talked 
with  the  men,  and  many  of  them  changed  their 
modes  of  life,  and  became  decent,  not  to  say  re- 
spectable, persons. 

Such  was  the  result  of  Bertha's  mission  to  the 
poor  children  of  Dunk's  Hollow. 

Mr.  Grant  made  satisfactory  arrangements  with 
his  creditors.  Brace  Brothers,  as  uncle  Obed  and 
others  had  anticipated,  paid  their  debts  in  full ; 
and  the  money  which  Mr.  Presby  had  advanced 
was  not  only  refunded,  but  Woodville  was  bought 
back  again,  and  Mr.  Grant  was  congratulated  by 
all  his  friends  and  neighbors  upon  the  happy  ter- 
mination of  his  troubles. 

The  only  person  who  seemed  to  be  a  permanent 
sufferer  by  the  transactions  we  have  described  was 
Mr.  Grayle.  His  conduct  in  causing  the  arrest  of 
the  broker  was  generally  condemned,  for  he  was 
actuated  by  revenge,  and  a  desire  to  make  money 
out  of  the  misfortunes  of  others.  As  Mr.  Sher- 
wood had  predicted,  his  course  proved  to  be  his 
ruin;  for  when  the  whole  truth  came  out  at  a 
meeting  of  Mr.  Grant's  creditors,  a  storm  of  indig- 
nation was  raised  against  him.  Losing  the  re- 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      253 

spect  and  confidence  of  business  men,  he  failed, 
and  sought  a  new  home  in  the  West  to  retrieve  his 
fallen  fortunes. 

When  Woodville  again  came  into  the  possession 
of  Mr.  Grant,  and  his  credit  was  completely  re- 
stored, a  great  dinner  party  was  given  in  honor  of 
the  event.  Among  those  invited  were  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Byron,  as  well  as  Mr.  Gray,  and  others  who 
had  attended  on  the  memorable  occasion  when 
Master  Charley  had  made  a  sensation.  Strange 
as  it  may  seem,  Mrs.  Byron  came;  and  when  she 
saw  the  gentle  girl,  whom  she  had  insulted  and 
turned  out  of  her  house,  honored  and  respected 
by  the  most  distinguished  people  in  the  vicinity, 
she  blushed  with  shame. 

Master  Charley  Byron,  who  always  had  his  own 
way,  insisted  upon  paying  a  visit  to  his  former 
governess  on  this  occasion ;  and  of  course  he  came. 
Bertha  sang  "  Three  Blind  Mice "  to  him,  and 
Noddy  Newman  turned  a  hundred  back  somersets 
on  the  lawn  for  his  special  benefit;  but  Charley 
was  too  wise  to  attempt  the  feat  himself.  The 
heir  of  Blue  Hill  could  spell  "  cat "  and  "  dog," 
but  he  had  made  no  farther  progress  in  knowl- 
edge ;  and  it  is  not  at  all  probable  that  he  will  ever 
be  President  of  the  United  States. 

At  other  times,  there  came  to  Woodville,  Mrs. 
Lamb,  Peter,  the  head  groom  of  Blue  Hill,  and  his 
wife,  Nathan,  the  sergeant  of  police,  Bob  Bleeker, 
and  others  who  had  befriended  Bertha  in  her  want 
and  peril.  They  were  kindly  received,  and  en- 


254  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

couraged  to  continue  in  the  faith  that  those  who 
assist  the  needy  shall  not  lose  their  reward. 

Mr.  Sherwood  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  Wood- 
ville, and  his  fidelity  to  his  employer  was  so  highly 
appreciated,  that  he  soon  became  the  partner  of 
the  broker ;  and  a  few  years  later,  when  Mr.  Grant 
retired,  he  succeeded  to  the  entire  business. 

Noddy  Newman  was  as  full  of  "  antics  "  as  he 
had  ever  been;  and  when  Ben,  the  boatman,  re- 
turned to  his  old  position  at  Woodville,  the  little 
savage  came  with  him.  But  he  was  under  the  in- 
fluence of  Bertha,  who  still  persevered  in  her  ef- 
forts to  make  a  civilized  man  of  him. 

Mr.  Presby  proposed  to  build  a  cottage  for  him« 
self  near  the  mansion  house,  but  neither  Bertha 
nor  her  father  would  permit  him  to  leave  the 
family.  An  addition  was  made  to  the  house, 
which  afforded  him  a  suite  of  rooms,  and  every 
day  Bertha  wrote  his  letters  and  read  to  him. 
The  old  gentleman  increased  the  allowances  of  hii 
son  and  daughter.  They  occasionally  made  him  a 
visit  at  his  new  home,  and  though  they  still  hun- 
gered for  his  money,  they  could  not  now  do  other- 
wise than  treat  him  with  respect,  and  even  with  a 
show  of  affection. 

Removed  from  his  troubles,  and  surrounded  by 
genial  and  loving  friends,  Mr.  Presby  ceased  to  be 
an  invalid,  and  lived  ten  years  after  his  removal 
to  Woodville.  When  he  died,  Bertha  Grant  was 
made  rich ;  several  charitable  institutions  received 
large  donations;  but  the  ungrateful  son  and 


The  Mission  of  Bertha  Grant.      255 

daughter  did  not  obtain  the  rest;  for  it  was  left 
in  charge  of  trustees,  who  were  instructed  to  pay 
them  only  the  income  of  it  during  their  lives,  the 
principal  to  be  equally  divided  among  their  chil- 
dren when  they  reached  their  majority. 

Richard  Grant,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  we  must  leave 
as  we  began  with  him.  Even  the  bitter  experience 
at  Newport  and  New  York  was  not  enough  to  re- 
form his  life  and  character.  He  is  almost  the 
only  trial  of  Bertha  and  her  father,  though  they 
hope  and  pray  that  he  will  yet  become  a  good  and 
true  man. 

Miss  Fanny's  pride,  after  its  sudden  fall,  was 
more  moderate  and  reasonable,  though  there  was 
still  much  to  hope  for,  and,  better  yet,  much  to 
expect  from  the  improvement  already  made  We 
are  happy  to  inform  her  sympathizing  young 
friends,  that,  when  her  next  birthday  was  cele- 
brated, all  who  were  invited  attended  her 
party. 

Ben,  the  boatman,  almost  worships  "  Miss  Ber- 
tha." As  he  grows  older,  and  his  rheumatism 
becomes  more  troublesome,  he  finds  in  her  a  con- 
stant friend,  who  chooses  never  to  forget  his  de- 
votion to  her  in  the  dark  hour  of  trial  and  sorrow. 
He  is  still  a  strict  disciplinarian,  and,  though  he 
makes  Noddy  "  stand  round,"  he  likes  the  boy,  and 
feels  a  deep  interest  in  his  future  welfare. 

Bertha's  mission  is  still  unfinished;  for  as  fast 
as  one  good  work  is  accomplished,  another  pre- 
sents itself.  The  willing  heart  and  ready  hand 


256  Rich  and  Humble,  or 

can  never  want  a  field  of  labor.  "  Whatsoever  our 
hands  find  to  do,  let  us  do  it  with  all  our  might," 
and  then  we  shall  realize  the  happiness  which 
crowned  THE  MISSION  OF  BERTHA  GRANT. 


THE  END. 


FEB  5     1980 


DATE  DUE 

BPU 

TB  1  4   198 

1 

. 

GAYLORD 

PRINTED  IN  U    S.A. 

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